In the Shadow of the Oak
by ifeelfreaky
Summary: Robin and Marian have known eachother as friends from a young age; Marian wants to keep thier relationship as is, but Robin feels differently, even though he won't push her. With Robin's matchmaking nephew, Will, egging him on...well..-R/M fluff Not BBC
1. Fiasco with the Outlaws

**To those who have read the other one that was deleted: Sorry about that, I had to put a different beginning in it, because my parents didn't like it... So again, sorry. Anyway, read, enjoy, and please review... **

Part 1

Chapter 1

1188, August 9,

Sherwood Forest, England

Robin slipped through the trees. The glade that he had found in Sherwood years ago, would always be there, but Marian could be impatient. He needed to be there today. They had been meeting there for years. Nobody had claimed it but them, and so, it belonged to them. Not really though, King Henry owned it, but that didn't matter. Plans had been forming in Robin's mind for the past week. He was going to teach her how to shoot. The art of archery was one thing that he could master with no trouble. Okay, so he wasn't perfect but Marian wouldn't be either. She'd get the hang of it soon enough though. She could beat him soundly racing up the Great Oak (The name for the mammoth tree in the middle of their glade). He had never once managed to make it to the top first. The thought of being beaten by a girl didn't bother him, though, because Marian wasn't a normal girl.

The feeling that he was being watched crept over him. A shiver went up his spine. Sherwood was dangerous. He had always known that. But risk was the fun of everything. A small sense of protection came from the bow that hung on his back. He took it off, strung it and held it at his side. This relaxed him, in a way. It always helped to have weapon handy, although he had never used one in self defense before. On top of that he doubted he'd be able to shoot at a person even if it was in self-defense, even if the person didn't have his best interests in mind. He'd probably hesitate and miss. He needed to get over that before...well, just soon. He didn't like to think about his near future.

He heard leaves rustling to his left, and a faint whispering. This caused him to stand still, listening. There it was again this time another overlapped the first. Robin reached back and pulled an arrow from his quiver. He nocked it to the string. He stroked the fletching with his right thumb, there wasn't any reason to, but it was an odd habit of his. At least when he was nervous.

An arrow whizzed through the air. He could hear it as it sang right beside his ear. It planted itself on the tree behind him. He dashed behind that tree since it should've shielded him from any other arrow coming from the same direction. He drew back the string a third of the way, preparing to shoot back. Another shaft found it's way above his head. He wondered if the archers were trying to harm him, or just trying to scare him to kingdom come with their accuracy. If it was either they were coming close.

He scanned the dense forest, searching it for movement. In the darkness of the trees, it was hard to really see anything. If some one wanted to hide, they wouldn't have try very hard.

"What a prize this one is." Someone laughed. "Sherwood is simply crawling with children today." That stung. He was sixteen, far from a child.

Three men , dressed in simple clothes and in desperate need of a bath came toward him. One climbed down from a tree, one from behind a brush pile, and a third from behind an old beech. All three of them carried thier own bows each with an arrow nocked. He drew his string all the way, and aimed at the first he had seen, his eyes daring him to come closer. They in turn drew their own. "I'm not sure which more rewarding, the girl who fancies herself a man or the earl's son. We can get more ransom for this one, for sure. Then again the girl's not being held for ransom is she?" the second said. Of course! There was their reason. Ransom money, his father's silver. "Put down your weapon, boy, you're outnumbered." Robin did so, a bit reluctantly however.

Although they wanted ransom for him, he knew that as for the girl they had mentioned... well, it was safe to say that her's would be a different fate. Unless he did something— Wait, what had they called her? 'A girl who fancies herself a man,' that was it. Oh, crap. This couldn't be happening. He had no choice now, he _had _to help her. The 'girl' was Marian. He knew of no other women who came to Sherwood dressed as men, no one but Marian would do that. He knew he would protect her, but how?

The men approached him. Their eyes glimmered, and they were smiling, which displayed the third one's loss of teeth. They gestured toward his bow, he understood. He took off his quiver, leaned it against a tree, and unstrung his bow. He put the bowstring inside the quiver, and traded it for the leather sleeve, that he stored his bow in and then he left it with the quiver.

"Should we just leave his trash here then?" asked the man with so few teeth.

"It's not trash," said the third, speaking for the first time. "They're perfectly good weapons, for a kid." Another insult. They knew as well as he did, that his bow was of a very good quality. It wasn't a child's weapon. It was better than theirs, he could tell by looking. "But, as we have no kids to use 'em, leave it." The dispute cleared up, and they took Robin south. They weren't very smart men. Anyone would know to blindfold a prisoner before leading them off to a hideout. If he wanted to he could turn them in. He knew he wouldn't, since if he did, his father would find out. Never again, would he see Sherwood.

During the long walk there Robin tried to think of a plan to save Marian. The thought of having to save her was strange, she could defend herself on her own, he knew that and so did she. But this time it would different, this time, she couldn't defend herself. Afterwards, he knew they would kill her and fourteen was just too young for somebody like her to die. He had to think of something, anything. A thought struck him: What if they had already... A swelling anger began to grow within him, he suddenly wanted push the three men on to make them go faster. He needed to be there.

--*--

Marian sat, tied to a tree with a gag in her mouth, for the moment forgotten. Her dark hair was out of it's braid, loose on her shoulders, she hated having it like that, always in her way. She almost wished they'd get it over with, how long could anyone wait for their life to be destroyed? _Knowing _their life would be destroyed? It was early afternoon now, she had been there for at least an hour. Nothing had happened, but she knew that in the end she'd have lost her honor. If they decided to be merciful, they might kill her afterward. She was pretty sure that she'd prefer that to living with those memories.

All these thoughts left her feeling defenseless, which was new to her. She should be up fighting her way out, but it's hard to fight when you're tied to a tree with a gag in your mouth. After so many years sneaking away to Sherwood, plotting with Robin, and shattering anything that got in her way, she wasn't used to sitting back and letting destiny decide for her. She shaped her destiny, molded it how she liked it.

One of the outlaws had been set to keep an eye on her, the rest were consumed in their business, talking in low tones about whomever they intended to attack next or whatever it is outlaws like these discuss. She would want their lifestyle if it wasn't for the way they did things. "You know, girly," the outlaw said to her. "You won't be alive tomorrow." Like she hadn't noticed. "Such a young, pretty little thing too," he continued, picking up a few strands of her hair. Marian glared at him, her emerald eyes piercing him with her fury. "I don't see why you have to be so upset—" Marian had managed to kick him firmly in the stomach. He dropped her hair, his face revealing his anger.

Suddenly he slapped her face so hard that her head was knocked back against the tree. A bump began to form on the back of her head, she could feel a little blood running down her skull, and her face was still stinging. Marian looked away from him, so he wouldn't get the pleasure of her pain, but this seemed to anger him more. He grabbed her hair and yanked her around to face him. "I'm not going to let you get away with that!" he screamed at her, his face close to hers. His breath stank of stale ale and rotten onions. She wanted to curl up in a ball and stay that way. "Hear me?!" He slapped her again.

"Be careful over there!" some one called. Marian meant to look at the ground, refusing to meet their eyes, but something caught her eye. On the other side of the camp, being held by three men, one without many teeth, was Robin. He looked horrified, and ready to hit something himself. She wasn't sure why she looked away, maybe she was ashamed, but she couldn't meet his eyes. Never had his hazel eyes looked so dark before, usually they were much more full of excitement and a readiness for adventure. Not now.

**Oh yeah, and I may use modern or American words or terms every once in a while because I find it easier to communicate with the reader this way. Again, I ask you to review!! See that button down there? No, a little to the left...um, too far, to the right. THERE!! See it now? Good, just hit it, and off you go.**


	2. Plan A, B, and C

**Read, enjoy, and REVIEW!!! You know that we all love them....**

Robin was at a loss for words, never had he ever seen Marian look as intimidated as she had just been. The man next to her was still holding most of her hair, and was keeping her face up. Her face was red from the man's hand, each of his fingers outlined on her skin. He had to do something, had to get her away from there.

He found his voice, "I can't let that man continue to hurt that girl, I demand that he step away from her." He was surprised at how menacing his voice sounded. "If he doesn't leave her alone, I won't write the ransom note. You don't have anybody else who can." The leader, whom he had learned had the name of Fife, glanced at him.

"You call that a threat? We can just find a scribe, scare him a little, and he'll do it for us." Fife had a taunting smile on his face.

"Then give me a sword, and I'll fight it out with you. Or a test of archery, I'll do that too."

"You think you can beat an outlaw with a bow and arrow?" Fife's voice was mocking, making it plain that he didn't believe him. "I think you should know that I'm the best of my men."

"I think you should know that I've been shooting arrows since I was eight." Fife laughed at him, as if he thought it were a joke, and one that he found downright hilarious.

Finally, Fife said, "I think I'd like to see this for myself. Untie the girl and bring her to the range, she should watch him fail for herself. Keep a rope around her neck so she can't run though, couldn't have that."

The man next to Marian moved to do as he had been ordered. "Not him," Robin said. "I'm doing this so she won't get hurt, he won't bother being careful. Let me do it." Fife smirked at him. "Keep a circle of men around us while I do, if you want to, but I can't let anyone hurt her." He wanted to look at Marian, to see what she thought of his plan, but knew that he'd lose it if he so much as glanced at her.

More men entered the camp, dragging yet another captive, one who looked a bit too familiar. "Caught him spying on us, Fife. He says that he—"

"Let him untie her," Robin interrupted. "If you don't want me to. He's a nephew of mine, and he'll be too scared to try anything." Fife was starting to look annoyed with Robin now, and Will didn't look too happy either. "You could have a man hold a knife to his throat so he won't do anything you don't want him to."

"Robin!" Will protested.

"Quiet, Will," Robin told him, but to Fife, "I'm trying to be reasonable with you. I'm offering a deal, that you can't disagree with. Just take it." Why was Will even here? His brother would kill him once he found out his son had followed Robin into Sherwood. Will was overprotected by his father, and rarely left his sight, even if Will was only one year younger than Marian.

Fife was aggravated with the demands Robin was making, and maybe a little pleased that he was putting up such a fight. "Neither of you two are going near her, my men will do just fine. And if you even think of complaining," he snarled at Robin. "I won't put up with your antics and just throw you somewhere till I get the bloody ransom!"

Robin quickly shut his mouth; he had been ready to snap that Fife's men weren't trustworthy. "Mark! Take care of the girl!" Fife called. "And don't be too rough! Wouldn't want to upset his little lordship."

--*--

Marian shrank back into the tree as the man called Mark came toward her, despite what Fife had ordered, she didn't trust him. Her other watchman grunted, dropped her hair, and backed away as Mark drew his knife to cut the ropes. He had a large scar across his forehead, and Marian wondered where he had gotten it. "Why Fife even listens to the earl's son," Mark muttered as his blade sliced through the rope. Marian was glad that Fife was listening to Robin, she hoped that he had a plan that would work. So far whatever he was trying to do was succeeding, and they even had another ally; one Marian had never met, but just the same.

Mark cut away the last of her bonds except for the rope holding her hands behind her, then it was all Marian could do not to get up and run. But she knew that she wouldn't get anywhere, there were too many men there. A rope was put around her throat and a complicated knot that Marian didn't recognize was tied in it. Mark yanked her to her feet with the other end of the rope.

"The gag too, Mark. She's not gonna be swearing at us anymore, I don't think." Filthy rag that it was, Marian was glad to see the thing go, she spit the taste of it out of her mouth, to make sure that no trace of it would be left. Her mouth was sore from how tight it had been, and she didn't even dare open her mouth for the pain.

Robin had watched it all, she knew because she could feel his eyes surveying every move Mark had made. However reassuring that was, it was also a bit unnerving. In the stories her mother had once told her before she had died a man in love with a woman always came to defend her honor and protect her, but Robin wasn't in love with her, he was just her friend, and that was all she wanted him to be. She let the thought go since there were more important things at hand.

"Come on," Mark said, pulling her forward. The rope, which wasn't tight but tight enough, was wearing on her neck already, it's roughness rubbing her skin bitingly. Mark didn't seem to care though, he kept dragging her forward until they reached Fife and Robin. Mark pushed her to the ground and tossed his end of the rope to Fife. Marian sat with her legs doubled beneath her, glaring at the ground.

"Would you mind being at least a bit more gentle?" Robin asked, his voice angry. Marian still couldn't look directly at him, even though she didn't understand why. She was thankful that he was trying to help, but yet she couldn't understand why she was acting like this.

--*--

A few minutes later they were headed for the archery range. Robin had been given an unfamiliar bow, and was walking as close to Marian as he could. Fife was leading her onward and she was glaring at his back. Will was somewhere behind him, being kept by Mark, at the camp. But Will would be fine, he could take care of himself, Marian was more important. "Marian," he said, not sure if she was listening or even if she could hear him, his voice was so low. He didn't want anyone to hear what he had to say. "I'm going to get you out of here, you know that?" She wouldn't look at him.

"I know." She winced as soon as the words were spoken. The gag had left long, purple bruises on her jawbone, and there was no doubt that they made it hard to talk. Why her? Why did they have to find her? It would be horrible for anyone to go through this, but why her?

"I'm sorry."

Finally, she looked at him, her expression one of shock. "You're the last one who should be apologizing. You don't think this is your fault do you?"

"No, but, I don't know, it felt like I should say it anyway."

"Don't bother then, if I­—" She was cut off when Fife jerked her rope and nearly made her fall flat on her face, but Robin caught her before she did, and he noticed that her neck was bright red where the rope was rubbing against it, and now there was a light sprinkling of blood in some places, it was going to be completely raw soon. This shouldn't be happening to her, and that was just it.

"Keep your mouth closed or that gag will be back where it belongs," Fife called back. Robin gave her an apologetic look, because that time it was his fault. She nodded ever so slightly, with barely any movement; he could tell that she was apprehensive of being harmed again. It made him angry that she should even have that fear, and especially that she was in a situation where that fear was normal.

That brief conversation Marian had stolen was comforting; even it had been stopped short. She had looked at him at last, and wished she had sooner, the solid proof that he was there had given her something solid to stand on. She had needed that, needed to know that there was some sort of hope.

The range took only half a minute to get to from there. It was a clearing with handmade targets set up on one end, at least one hundred paces away. How anyone could shoot that far, Marian didn't know. People did it all the time but she couldn't imagine ever being able to do something like that herself. She looked at Robin, but he didn't seem surprised or even worried about the distance, in fact he seemed confident. She kicked his foot to get his attention, not wanting to talk again. When she had achieved eye contact she gave him a look of question and shrugged toward the field. He gave a nod of self-assurance. As soon as she saw it, she looked away, hoping Fife hadn't noticed.

She wondered what would happen to her during the match. In the end the rope was tied to fencepost, and she was told to sit there, and not talk. Keeping her mouth shut wasn't a problem, she was already determined not to speak again. She stared straight ahead and didn't look at anyone or anything except what was happening on the field. Robin and Fife were each going to get one shot, whoever came the close to the center would have his way. She knew Robin was a fair shot, but up against a seasoned outlaw? Marian couldn't be sure of the outcome.

--*--

Robin would go second, which was fine with him, he liked to know exactly how much distance he needed between his arrow and Fife's to win. He had to win, if he didn't win, he'd never forgive himself. He concentrated on the target, what he needed to do, and what the cost would be if he didn't succeed. He had already gotten her away from the man who had been hitting her, but that wasn't enough, she needed to be out of this place altogether.

A silence fell as Fife drew back his arrow, aimed and released. It flew towards the target and struck home in the outer-rim of the center. Robin looked at it for a while, considering whether or not he could do better. "Well, are you sorry for doing ths yet?" Fife asked.

"No, I won't be either." Fife gave him a smirk, as Robin stepped to the line. He looked over the arrow to see if they had given him a dud. As far as he could see, it was flawless, if maybe a bit worn, but that was no different from Fife's arrow. Of all the arrows he had shot in his life, this overused arrow he held would be the most important one he had ever fired. Even though the fletching was plain, and the tip a bit dulled, he was putting his faith in his skill and into the arrow's flight.

He nocked it to his bowstring, took his stance, and pulled back the string. Robin sighted down the shaft of the arrow, looking toward the target. He had become obsessed with winning this one time, he could lose anything else, but not this. With one slight adjustment to his aim, he let it go. In the space of an instant it had finished whistling through the air, and struck an inch closer than Fife's. One inch; that had decided Marian's fate.

--*--

Marian couldn't help but smile, she wanted to laugh, but still didn't dare. Robin had a small smile on hic face too, "Free the girl," he said. Fife laughed at him, and his men joined in. Marian's smile disappeared.

When Fife finished he said, "You think I'll actually let her go? I played you like a game of dice. She doesn't go anywhere." Marian was going to punch Fife someday, just come right out and give him a nosebleed, and maybe break it too. He'd be sorry then.

"Even in a game of dice there is a gamble you can't back out of. Give me sword, and we'll fight it out that way. First to take blood wins, if I win she goes free. If you back out I assure you will wish you hadn't." She wasn't sure what to think then, or how to react.

"Give the idiot a sword if that's what he wants. I'm not going to let him think he's better than me. He can go ahead and lose." Robin seemed to know something that Fife didn't. Marian hoped it was to his advantage, it looked to her like it would be, but one can never tell for sure from a distance. Marian grew more sure of the assumption that Robin knew he had the upper hand when he was given a sword. He held it confidently, looked Fife in the eye and kept the contact. Fife drew his sword and started swinging.

Each time Robin blocked it, however complex the strike was Robin kept him at bay. The sound of sword meeting sword filled her ears, it sounded more deadly than anything she'd ever heard, but at the same time it she wondered if someday she might learn to fight like that. Watching from her perspective, she noticed the footwork most. Robin was much more agile than Fife, and kept moving. Fife, was slower, his steps seemed lumbering compared to the quick, fast movements that Robin performed. She looked at their faces and saw sheens of sweat on both their foreheads. Fife was infuriated that he could do nothing against Robin, who continued to calmly parry every attempt Fife made. Marian lost track of how long it had been.

Marian was barely able to follow what Robin did next. Somehow he struck out and smacked Fife's sword to the side and then cut into his upper arm. Robin kicked him to his knees and held the tip of his blade to Fife's neck, "Let the girl go." His voice was almost sinister in tone, his stance foreboding and prepared for whatever might happen next. His light sandy hair was drenched in sweat and hung in his face, the slight curl it usually had was still there, but barely since his hair was so weighed down.

Marian found that she was holding her breath to better hear Fife's answer. "Fine, on one condition." Robin didn't relax his posture; he kept his sword tip on Fife's throat and waited for the rest of his reply. "The ransom price your father is paying will be twice as high as before."

"Only if Will goes with her." Robin was staying? Marian didn't like the idea of him staying here. "And you must give me proof that you'll keep your word." After much arguing Fife was disarmed of every weapon on his person, tied to a tree and gagged. Marian laughed, however much it hurt, at how similar it was to how he had kept her. Robin smiled with her.

Robin fumbled with the knot in the rope around Marian's throat, trying to not let the rope touch the raw skin on her neck. He was proud of himself; somehow he had done it, Marian had both her innocence and her life. The rope fell away and they both stood. Her wrists had already been freed.

"Thank you, Robin. I think I owe a lot to you."

"What else was I supposed to do?" Then, more quietly, "I'm not staying here. I know I'm going against my word here, but I don't think it's such a terrible thing, since Fife did the same to me." Marian was relieved.

"Good. I wouldn't have wanted to leave you here anyway. We should go get Will, so we can get out of here."

They found Will up against a boulder on the south side of the camp with Mark casually pressing a dagger between his ribs. The outlaw still hadn't noticed them. Marian looked at Robin with a sly grin, asked for Fife's dagger (which he had kept along with the sword), and snuck up behind him ready to finally hit some one. Fixing the dagger firmly into his back she said, "Don't move, or I'll press harder, and I don't think you want this through your heart, however black it is." Mark let out an over dramatic sigh of indifference.

"Really, girl, you'd think that you'd have given up by now."

"I'm not just any girl, I'm the one holding a blade to your back, so drop your weapon." He obeyed. She turned him around, and glared him through, her dagger now held to his neck. "You don't hurt me without getting hurt back, apparently a lesson you failed to learn. And it just so happens that I'm more than willing to show you." Marian punched him square in the nose, just as she had planned for Fife. "See what I mean?" She knocked his head against the rock and he fell, unconscious, to the ground. Stepping over him, she picked up the dagger he had dropped, deciding to take it as a personal trophy.

A shrill whistle sounded from the direction of the archery range. Marian turned around, "Not good," Robin told her. "I want you to run to the Great Oak and stay there, if I'm not there by dusk, go home."

"But—" Robin shushed her, and told her to just go. She hesitated for a few moments, then turned and ran. She couldn't have stayed, she knew that, it was the only reason she left. Otherwise, she would have stayed. Of course Will got to stay, but that made sense, if Marian had stayed things could only get worse.

She stopped at a spring to wash her neck and wrists. The water stung like nothing she'd ever known, making only the drink she took there refreshing.

Afterwards, it was only a five minute walk to the oak. Marian was glad they hadn't captured her here, if that had happened, the whole clearing would overrun with outlaws. It was the perfect place, with everything an outlaw camp needed. A spring nearby, a small cliff that made a wonderful lookout point, a cave that could provide shelter, and of course enough space. If anyone found this place they would be sure to take for themselves.

Not being a sit-still type of person, she climbed halfway up the oak. She sat in silence listening and watching.

She fell asleep but jerked awake at the sound of voices. They were arguing. She recognized one quite clearly since she had even listened to it change five and a half years ago. He was all right! By the sound of things Will was okay too. Her conscience instantly felt better.

"I swear I'll kill you someday. Do you realize what you've done?" Robin asked. "Now my brother will be furious, Charles will never forget this. Mark my words; my brother, your father will forever hold it against me that _I'm_ the reason you ever came here. He's so protective of you, I'm surprised he even lets you do anything on your own." Marian laughed to herself; that was even worse than her father.

"Well at least he's not making me—"

"Shut it. I don't want to hear one thing about that right now." Marian was confused. She knew nothing of what had just been said. She felt as if, for some reason, that she should. Robin was her deepest friend; shouldn't she know if something was bothering him?

"You've told her right?" Will asked.

"No, not yet." Marian had barely heard that sentence. As soon as she did she was extremely worried. Something important was going on that she didn't know about, and by the sound of things it had something to do with her.

"If you've asked her fath—"

"Shut it."

"Does he know?"

"Yes, and if you dare say one more thing, I'll kill you sooner than I intended." Her father knew? Why would he know? Why did he _need_ to know? She was thinking long and hard about this when they arrived.

"So... What did I miss?" Her words had double meaning, of course, but Robin didn't know that. As she climbed deftly downwards Will looked notably surprised. Her feet hit the ground, landing her directly before them.

"Not much, we pretty much just got re-captured for about five minutes, kicked a few of them out of our way, led them a side-splitting chase, and then came here." Robin said, feeling exhausted at the memory.

"Yeah, I agree with the side-splitting, I don't think I've ever run so fast for so long," Will said.

"You didn't have to drag somebody along behind you either," Robin groused.

"It's not like I know every turn and corner of this place like you do, I've never been here before."

"I think I'll leave you two to your bickering, and head back home."

"Would it help if an earl's son escorted you home with a few explanations?" Marian brightened at the idea. Knowing her father would be more than pleased with that.

She was surprised at the look of complete mortification on her father's face when he saw Robin. It would have been more typical of him to be excited, not embarrassed. Maybe this had something to do with the unfinished argument Robin had had with Will. She didn't think about it too hard; she had a feeling that she'd find out soon enough.

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	3. Archery

**This doesn't have NEAR as much action as the last two, but it's still important. So once again: read, enjoy, and review!!**

Chapter 3

A month passed, fall arrived, changing the colors on every tree. The pure beauty of it was amazing. It was a crisp morning that Marian's father called her into his solar. He barely left it, which was what gave her the secret freedom to go to Sherwood. He had never left since his wife and Marian's mother, Aelfleda had died. She had taught Marian to read and write, which was rare gift for any woman. Her father had loved Aelfleda, even though he was Norman ans she was Saxon, and somehow he had died on that day with her, retreating into the privacy of his solar only leaving when he had to. It was a rare occasion Marian was asked in, so she knew that it was on strict business. She sat before the fireplace in a chair across from her father's, trying her best not to fidget. "As you know, I'm leaving on crusade in under two months. This left the task of finding someone willing to marry you." He made it sound like he had had to move a mountain. "I have found a man willing, although he also is leaving on crusade. It was decided that you will marry when he returns. But in the meantime you will be under instruction by a friend of mine, actually his wife. She will teach what your mother would have. You will learn to run a household and everything that goes with it." His face had not changed throughout his small speech.

Only one question came to mind. "What if this man I'm to marry dies in battle?"

"You will go to a convent. The woman you will be learning from will arrange that for you." Marian fought the urge to laugh. She couldn't imagine herself as a nun, even though the image of herself in a nun's habit popped into her head. There wasn't a chance that would happen. She wouldn't stand for it.

"Father?"

"Yes?"

"Have I ever met him?" If she was getting married she would know to whom.

"I don't believe so, but you will. He's going to be here in two weeks, after the fair. I intend to have the two of you get acquainted. At least that way you can mourn him truly, should he die. Young thing like him, I wouldn't doubt it." Marian caught the tidbit that he had dropped.

"He's young then?" That was a good thing, he wasn't three times her age. But her father didn't answer, he dismissed her with a wave of his hand. She left unwillingly, feeling as though she had just lost an important battle.

--*--

Robin tried again, "Please Marian? I know you want to. Just think of it—"

"I have been. I can't enter that archery tournament at the fair. If I get caught they'll execute me, maybe burn me at the stake. You know they'd do that." Robin could tell she wasn't telling him something. Last year she had complained about not being able to and now she refused. It wasn't like her. They were sitting at the top of their tree arguing it out, neither having any success at winning.

"Then let me teach you. They'll have bows and arrows that you can use there, and you'll be at the fair anyway." He couldn't understand why she didn't want to. Had he done something? Was she just against taking the risk? He was so confused. Marian was sitting with her arms crossed looking angry. "Look, you won't get caught. I'd speak on your behalf if you did. Besides, you'll enjoy it. I know you will." She glared at him, her eyes simply screaming how much she wished she could, but knew she couldn't. It was a reassuring thing to see, and Robin had hope.

"If I give a good reason why I shouldn't, what would you do?"

"Knock it down, so that's it's not a good reason anymore. But since you insist, go ahead and try." He smiled to himself. This was going to be extremely easy. There was no good reason not to; he couldn't lose.

Marian leaned back against the trunk, and looked off into the distance, her face depressed. "My father is going to introduce me to my fiancé afterwards. If I get caught, he's going to know. Everything will be destroyed, my father will be furious, and he'll have to find some one else. He's already hinted it was hard enough to find 'stranger-man'." Robin felt sorry for Marian, not knowing. Traditions were so against her, at some point she was going to snap, and do something she'd regret later. But at the same time he felt a twinge of guilt, since he knew something that she didn't.

"I could say something in response to that, but you'd never speak to me again..."

"Then don't say it,"she snapped. "I hate to say it, but if I decided never to talk to you, I'd be miserable." That was a good thing, because as soon as she found out, she _would _decide never to speak to him again. He wanted to tell her, he really did, but he didn't want to give her up yet; that would come soon enough on it's own. If he could have his way about it he would stay right here for the rest of his life. It wasn't his choice, though, that decision had been made for him already. "Okay," Marian said suddenly.

Robin wasn't sure what that meant. "'Okay' what? Okay, I'll do it, or okay, tell me?"

"I'll do it. But don't think I'm looking forward to it."

"Then let's get started, we only have a one week. We should start right away, unless you have a natural knack for archery, you will have to practice until you drop from exhaustion."

"Seriously, that doesn't help. If I drop from exaustion I'll quit. You won't have to ask about it, I'll just quit." She meant it, he could tell. It was her way out if she wanted it at the last minute, that, however,was fine with him, as long as she would try it. That was all he wanted.

He began to climb down feeling light. She grumpily followed, looking ready to kill the next thing that tried to convince her to do anything else, so he decided not to push it. With both feet on the ground, he ran for his bow and arrows, happier than he had been in a long time. Marian sprang after him, her eagerness showing in her eyes if nothing else. "All right," he said, his voice cheerful. "First we need to know if you're right- or left-eye dominant. I'm going to test you for this, and let's hope you're right-eye, cause that's what I am. We can't have you shooting with a right-eye bow if you're left-eye dominant." He stepped back a few steps, and put his hands in front of him, leaving only a triangle of space. "Do this with your hands." He waited half a minute for her to adjust and then dropped his own hands. "Now hold then straight out in front of you, palms facing outward. Good. Center my nose in the space."

"This is weird, I can't believe I have to do this."

"Just trust me. Got it centered?" She nodded. "Then bring your hands slowly back to your face, keeping my nose centered at all times." He watched her do it, a half smile on her face. Her hands came back to her right eye and Robin sighed in relief. "Great, you're a right-eye. That makes things easier."

"I just hope the rest is going to be as easy as that was." Though, she had said the words it was obvious, that she hadn't meant them, she wanted the challenge. And he was more than willing to give it to her. In fact, for the next hour she learned. How to string the bow took a while, what was habit to him wasn't to her, but she caught on fast enough. He taught her to knock an arrow, showed her each of the different steps to shooting, made her go over them again and again until she knew each of them and what it did. All this before he let her try it. It annoyed her, even if it was necessary.

"I can't get this, Robin." Marian hadn't yet hit the stupid tree. She had been trying to for ten minutes and had become obsessed with getting it right, determined not to give up. She tried it agian and another arrow buried itself in the dirt beyond the birch they had designated. There was a knoll that she was supposed to use as a center, he had said that it was just the tree she should try for but even something that simple seemed to be failing. Then he realized what was wrong.

"It's your follow through. As soon as the arrow's gone you bring the bow down, what you need to do is keep where it is till your arrow strikes home. When you bring it down that early your arrow is going to hit the dust." She scowled at him, irritated that she couldn't get it right. "Here, let me try something." He walked over and stood directly behind her. "Now get ready to shoot again." Marian obeyed, but right as she was about to draw it back, Robin put his hands over hers.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm going to show you how your follow-through should go. You do all the work but I keep your hands where they need to be. Now continue the shot." She didn't talk, as she concentrated, she drew back steadily with no help from him. His heart was racing at how close she was to him, even though it was wrong for him to think like that, he couldn't help it. Her hand remained steady under his as she took her aim. As soon as she let go, she tried to put down her bow, but Robin kept her hands where they were: One hand holding the bow up, and the other behind her, as if still pulling it back. Watching the arrow sing towards the tree was one of the most fulfilling moments he had had all week long. The next one came when it thudded into the tree, a hand's length above the knoll. Releasing Marian's hands, he stepped back, "See? The follow-through is important, remember that. Now let's see how you do on your own."


	4. Nottingham Fair

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed!!! I really appreciate it. And also, a thank you to my new Beta, I'm sure this chapter is better thanks to you.**

Marian had never felt so exhilarated. Every time she hit the tree her heart swelled with pride, and if it got any bigger she was going to float away. When the light began to turn a soft golden color was when she realized how late it was. Still breathing heavily and wanting more, she let go of her last arrow. The sound of it flying through the air sent an exited shiver down her spine, filling her with a need for more. Reluctantly, she told Robin that she did need to start home. He nodded, and told her to be back tomorrow if she could.

All that night she waited impatiently for tomorrow. The sun was still asleep when she leaped up out of bed, it was only just peeking out at the world while she snuck meat pies and a hunk of cheese from the kitchen, fully ready to go, with an apple between her teeth for a breakfast on the way.

"Now, mistress, I wouldn't be leaving today," the old cook warned. "Your father was steaming about yesterday in his sleep, I heard him in the middle of the night from my quarters. I won't tell on you, but I won't be taking your side either when he's all in a rage tonight."

She took out her apple just to say, "I really don't care today, Martha, life is meant to be lived and not wasted. I've got to live it in a way I enjoy. Sitting at home feeling sorry for myself isn't going to do that for me." She took the first juicy bite of the fruit as she ran out the kitchen door, chickens flapping away from her as she went through them. The sun was inches above the horizon as she ran through the field that separated Fitzwater Manor from Sherwood. Never slowing her pace, she raced to the edge of the forest, still not stopping. Finally, out of breath she stopped on the road that cut through the forest. A stream snaked it's way through forest floor a little ways off, she walked there and scooped some of the fresh water.

Hoofbeats.

The sound reached her ear too late. With no time to hide, she stuffed her braid down her back, swung the sack over her shoulder and began walking down the road with her back to the approaching horseman. "Ride past, ride past, ride past," she whispered, as if willing it to be so. It was coming closer, the sound of the horse growing louder. Silently she veered off the road, but kept walking, just as she had seen many peasants and beggars do.

She listened, but didn't turn around, she wouldn't draw attention to herself. The hoofbeats grew louder, closer. While her feet moved beneath her, her ears heard only the pounding of the horses hooves, beating the ground as they drew nearer. She was struck with panic when they began to slow, then stop beside her.

"What's your business here, boy?" the rider asked. A hood, she needed a hood at these times. To make up for it she kept her eyes trained on the ground, never once looking up.

"I'm heading home, sir," she said, trying to deepen her voice.

"Home from what? Poaching? What's in the bag? Part of the king's deer, perhaps? Empty it."

What else could she do? Nothing, of course. If she refused he'd kill her. Besides there was nothing offending in the sack, just meatpies and cheese. Why would he get angry about that? Eyes on the ground, she reached and pulled out what was inside, holding it out for him to see.

"How do I know you aren't hiding something in your sack? Turn it inside out."

The only way to do that was to put her food on the ground. As much as she hated to ruin the cheese and pies, she did, though she was careful not to place them in the mud. She turned the sack inside out, just as he had asked. What else could he demand of her? There couldn't be anything else.

"Where does someone like yourself get food as fine as this? You stole it didn't you?" Had she not been so worried that she was going to get caught she would have scowled at him.

A story flickered to her lips, faster than she had expected. "I'm a stable boy for the Earl of Huntington. I received news early this morning that my mother was dying, so my master sent me home. Being as good as he is he gave some food for the journey." In truth, she had no idea if Robin's father would do something like that. For all she knew, he wouldn't send stable boys home if their mother were dying. Oh well, too late now. She could only hope that this man didn't know the earl.

"I don't like lying boys. I have half a mind to bring you to the authorities. Let them take care of your lying self." Marian concentrated on glaring at her lunch, which still sat in the road, getting soggy from the damp. "In fact, I will. I have no evidence that your story is true, if I did I might reconsider. But under the circumstances you will follow me—"

"What are you doing?" a new, familiar voice asked. This was humiliating. She was being half arrested, and now Robin was going to get himself involved. What was with him lately? He was all _here-let-me-help-you_ when he used to let her do things herself. She would have to yell at him later. He was sitting on his own horse, a white one that always looked dirty no matter how much you groomed it. "I hope you have a good reason for taking our stable boy away from his dying mother." Marian was getting annoyed with it all. First an attempt at rape, and now a half arrest. Both of them leaving her feeling completely helpless. She almost wished Robin hadn't showed up.

"_Your _stable boy? I didn't know the earl was so young." His tone was mocking.

"I'm his youngest son, and I want a good reason for this interruption of my daily ride."

"So is that why you look like you're out to clean the gutters of London?" That smug tone was still there. Marian hoped Robin would snap at him, do something to make him mad. _Anything. _

"I am Robert of Locksley, son of the Earl of Huntington. I refuse to leave without my stable boy."

"And I refuse to let this lying, thieving boy go. You can be whoever you want to be, but I will not let this boy go."

"Look, I am going to be more than annoyed if you interrupt my day anymore, so I'll put it straight to you. My father is not going to be happy if you keep our stable boy from his mother. How many times do I have to remind you that he's an _earl,_ and can make your life difficult. Perhaps turn other nobles against you, and make you a hated man. Take my advice and go."

"I won't be put subject to this! You are disrespecting—"

"I'm not disrespecting you or anyone else. You don't have to put up with me either, just leave. That's my only suggestion."

Marian was sick of it. Sick of being taken advantage of, by everyone it seemed. Not Robin really, but he was making her enter that tournament. This man, outlaws, her father, and that fiancé too.

All that made her ready to scream at both Robin and the man. "I'm leaving. Go ahead and try to stop me, but I'm not going to stand around here while my mother's dying." She said it with such contempt that she regretted it. Stable boys didn't talk back to nobles, she was over stepping her line. None the less, however, she gathered her food, put it back in her bag and continued walking. She didn't pay attention to the angry words exchanged behind her, just kept going. A horse began to rapidly gain speed and there was no doubt that it would pass by. She veered to the side and waited for it to do so, hoping that maybe she could swear a few nasty things behind him as he left. Air rushed past her as the noble left, kicking mud everywhere in his haste.

"A dying mother, Marian? No wonder he wouldn't believe you. Couldn't you have thought of something better?"

Marian turned back around, and started walking the way she wanted to; into the forest toward the oak tree. Let Robin catch up on his own.

Marian could hear him behind her, leading his horse. "Did I tell you that my new fiancé is leaving on crusade?" She stopped and looked back, he had a concentrated look on his face, his lips pressed together and his eyes serious. He caught up and she started walking again. "If he dies in battle I have to become a nun." She kicked a rock so it would feel her pain too. "Otherwise I'd wish him dead. Either way I end up being someone I don't want to be." She glanced over at Robin to see what he thought, but he was silent. It confused her, by this time he should have said something. Told her that he agreed, maybe. But he didn't, so she kept going.

"I'm going to have trouble at that stupid dinner I'm having with him and my father. I might be tempted to throw my food at him, or hit him. I'm not sure which yet. He's ruining my life, though, I can tell you that much. My whole future is destroyed now." She waited for him to say something. He didn't. "Say something. I keep waiting for you to interrupt me, but you won't."

The silence was thick for a few seconds. "How do you know he's going to be so bad? He might be a nice person. As for his chances of living through the crusades, I can't say. If I were you I wouldn't wish death for him, though. I think married life would be easier on you than being a nun. You might learn to love him a little bit."

"No, I don't think so. I will never _love _any man. I don't think I even want to."

------

Every day until the fair she came to the forest and Robin taught her more. Her follow-through was perfected and became natural to her. Marian was never fully confident in any of her shots, always ready for her arrow to fly past the target. Robin had to continually tell her that she was getting better, that she should give herself more credit. By the end of the week, she felt that she would be able to make it past the first few rounds at least.

When the morning of the fair dawned, Marian was laying in bed, telling herself that she had to do it. As a last stand before she met her doom afterwards with that stupid dinner. "You can't back out now," she told herself. "Robin has spent hours of his time teaching you everything he can. If you don't do it, you'll let him down."

She had sewn herself a hood, after the encounter on the road. She planned to wear it for the fair, to avoid being recognized as a girl. No need for that. She got dressed as if it was a normal day going to Sherwood. As she put on the hood she congratulated herself; it fit just as she had wanted it to. She snuck down the stairs and through the hall to the front door. The door through the kitchen wasn't an option this time, since Martha would be against the whole thing, but a cook was not going to stop her from doing what she wanted to.

Marian went over the plan she and Robin had made as she walked down the road to Nottingham. They were supposed to meet at the tournament, which was at noon. She was going early to look around and see it all. There was always something interesting happening. According to plan, she wasn't supposed to enter the tournament until Robin got there for the sake that her voice would give her away, which Marian could understand. Besides, she had no great want to be caught. She would go home almost directly after the tournament, so she would have enough time to get ready for that dinner.

She could have taken a horse, but it would have looked suspicious since she really didn't look rich enough to pass for a lord. The walk would help her nerves anyway. It was full light when she stepped into the fair.

Nothing had started yet, but the stands were up, all the different wares laid out. Things that only came to town every once in a while. Some of the fabrics she could see were in colors too bright for anyone to make in England. The silversmiths were showing off intricate jewelry that would cost a fortune. The wonderful scents of all the different foods was almost assaulting. Pastries, breads, and anything else you could imagine. Fortune telling gypsies, jugglers, puppeteers, and minstrels were ready to entertain anyone who would pass by. This was why she loved the fair. The problem was, she had no idea what to do with herself. She had no clue what boys her age did here. One mistake, and somebody could catch on.

In the end she stood against a wall and watched the people. All of them, those making or spending money. The children hanging on to their mother's skirts, asking if they could do this or that. Old men who wandered around doing nothing but remember what things were like when they were young. She tried to imagine all the different lifestyles of the people, where they might live, what their problems were, who they cared about, and what they wanted out of life. After a while she moved to another spot; a shadowy alley so nobody would see her. Right across from her hiding spot there was a silversmith selling trinkets and baubles. His stand was interesting to watch. Women came and cooed over this or that, and men, to buy for their women without them knowing. Only a few could afford such things though, many hurried past so they wouldn't see what they were missing.

Then something strange happened. Robin was there conversing and bartering with the smith! Marian couldn't help but wonder whom he was buying for. If her father was pushing her to marry, then perhaps Robin was getting that as well at home, after all, he was sixteen, it wasn't a horrible time to get married. If she was being pushed at fourteen, why wouldn't he be at sixteen? But wouldn't he have said something last week when she was complaining about tonight's dinner? It made next to no sense, so she resolved to ask later.

The silversmith gave a bit of a wry grin, and pulled a leather pouch from something behind him, was it pre-ordered then? Robin had sure gone to a lot of trouble for this. The smith pulled something out to show it off, but Marian couldn't see it clearly, except for the glint the sun made on the metal. She looked elsewhere for a moment, and for an instant thought that she had seen a familiar face. She looked again, and recognized her father. Hissing, she dove farther into the darkness of the alley, and took the first turn she could. She would not be caught by her father. He would turn it into a big deal for sure, making it into a scandal, that somehow, was entirely her fault. It was, of course, but it was in that scandal, that she knew herself. She had to be who she was, or she would wilt away.

She stayed in the darkness until she was sure she was safe, or as safe as she could be anyway. Out on the overcrowded street, she stole a glance at the silversmith's table. All his work looked intricate and expensive, some girl was going to be really happy with Robin, she could be sure of that. Glancing at the sky, she sucked in her breath. She was going to be late.

**Ok, there it is. But the question of the hour is whether or not you liked it. See the review button? Cool, just hit that, and tell me what you think!**


	5. Tournament

**In this one there is an unfamilar word that you may not know. _Andig_ is the Anglo-Saxon word for 'jealous' but that's all I can say, or else I'd give something away... R&R please!!**

Where was she? If Marian didn't show soon, she'd completely miss it. Robin had barely made it here himself, thanks to that bit of business, although being held up by Marian's father hadn't helped. Robin could barely suffer through the man. Still, he had to deal— There she was! He rushed over to her, handed her the bow he had borrowed for her, and said "You are Martin of Southwell and arrows will by the shooting line. Where were you?"

"Wandering aimlessly around the fair, spying on people. Try it some time, you could find out things about your friends that you were never told. I spent half the time watching the _silversmith _sell his trinkets. Just out of curiosity why were you there?"

"I'll tell you later, now follow me." This was not good, she wasn't supposed to know anything about that. Now she was going to be furious, even more than she would have been originally. Why him? Why did it always have to be him? Why? He was already under enough stress what with the whole thing with his brother, and Will was making it worse.

"Robin," Marian hissed, "tell me." By this time they were standing in a small crowd of archers waiting for the tournament to start. A third of the men were drunk, as always. They were the ones who went out first.

"Not now. Later." Why was she being so persistent with this?

"Yes, now. I need something to distract me."

He had a feeling that was a lie; there was something in her voice that old him it was more than a need for distractions. She genuinely wanted to know. But why?

"Think about your follow-through. You don't need distractions. If you're distracted you'll miss, and we can't have that. Please don't ask again."

--*--

This was strange, too strange. Her thoughts flitted to the argument she had overheard after her near-rape. Something was going on that she didn't know about, and it was more distracting than whatever answer Robin could have given her.

"Fine," she grumbled. "Don't tell me. Why would I even _need _to know?" She was getting sarcastic now, ranting on about it. "Why would you need to tell me something as trivial as that?" Robin shushed her.

"If I do say so, it sounds to me like you're _andig._"

Jealous! He thought she was jealous of whichever girl had caught his affections! She wasn't _jealous _of anyone, especially not the girl Robin had found, whoever she might be.

"You're acting like a girl, and do I have to remind you that your voice is a dead giveaway? People are looking this way; you're attracting attention."

She glared at him, angry that she couldn't give him a full piece of her mind, all these secrets were getting on her nerves.

"I'll shut up."

"Good, it's almost time to start anyway."

Marian refused to look at him. She woudn't, not if he was going to lie to her. Nobody liked to be lied to, and she was no exception. Didn't he see how this was affecting her? She would be too worked up about this to make an attempt at a good shot.

But all the same... A question nagged at her, other than why Robin had been at the silversmith's. Why did she want to know so much? Why was it this important to her? Her brain was putting together pieces, but she wouldn't look at the finished product. Why not? She just didn't want to know, or had a feeling that if she did know she'd lose something. Whatever it was, Marian refused to realize what she already knew.

The banging of a gavel brought her back. A voice called out different archers' names, told them to take their places. The routine wasn't completely unfamiliar to Marian. She had watched archery tournaments before. She hadn't, of course, ever dreamed she'd get to try her own hand at it. It thrilled her just to think of it, even if she wouldn't win.

"There you are," an unfamiliar voice called.

"Oh, there's Ivan," Robin said. "We're friends, in a way. He and I talk during the tournaments and estimate who will win. Usually we guess correctly. Don't talk too much, it'll give you away."

Marian grumbled to herself about how annoying the whole no-voice-thing was getting.

"Take your stance!" the man with the gavel called.

Ivan jogged up to them, eyeing Marian. "Who's this?" he asked, motioning to her.

"Martin," More lies. So many lies. "I dragged him into it, even if it took a while to convince him."

"Draw and take aim!"

"Well, Martin, I'm Ivan. Even if I hope to beat you, I doubt I will, since Robin brought you into this. I always go out before him."

Marian didn't respond.

"Don't give me that much credit, Ivan," Robin told him. "I'm not as good at this as you seem to think."

"My father thinks so. He claims you have potential." The gavel pounded and the sound of a dozen arrows flying through the air followed. "Who's it going to be this year?"

"Give them all a chance to show me what they can do first. Out of those last six who were upI'd say that Norman with the bushy goatee. If I'm remembering from last year, he was pretty good."

"Yeah, he was."

The second batch of archers were being called forward. Marian wasn't really paying attention; she was too nervous for that. She almost missed that Robin was being called, didn't even notice until he left. "Known Robin long?" Ivan asked her. A direct question, one that she had to answer. She nodded, instead. "How long?"

"Six years. Now let me watch," she hissed it so her voice wouldn't be so obvious. Ivan fell silent, perhaps noticing that she wasn't in the mood. She didn't notice the questioning look in his eyes. The man's gavel pounded and arrows cut the air as they zipped from archers' bows. Robin's arrow was second closest to the middle, an older man beating him by an inch. Robin wore a cocky grin on his face, nonetheless.

Marian knew from past experience that he enjoyed being the best, or second best as it was today. Second left room to get even better, which was a challenge, and since Robin loved challenges to overcome, second best was just as good. Personally, she would rather be better than everyone else all the time.

Ivan was busy congratulating Robin, while at the same time muttering about how unfair it was that Robin always beat him. "Martin of Southwell!" the gavel-bearing man called.

Her insides fely compacted together in a thick pudding, swirling around within her. No matter, she was Marian Fitzwater, the girl whispered about because of her queerness. She moved into position, smiling because of how wonderful it was to be rebellious. She took her arrow from an upright quiver beside her, giving it a glance over for flaws, as Robin had shown her.

"Take your stance!" Taking stance was easy, it was when you believed you could make a decent shot.

"Draw and take aim!" This was when it got hard. Suddenly a fear that you would do poorly jumped out at you, telling you that you would miss. Marian dismissed it though, now wasn't the time for fear, it was time for concentration. Her arm remained still, and the arrow with it. Her mind blocked the noises of the ongoing fair. Nothing existed but her, the bow, arrow, target, and upcoming crack of a gavel.

The gavel sounded and she released, her follow-through as steady as ever. Marian's arrow propelled itself toward the target, singing it's song as it went. The song ended as it found it's place in the circle around the center, one of her best shots.

In her excitement she failed to move out of the oncoming archer's way, standing in her spot, staring at her accomplishment. "Move, boy!" a heavy Norman voice ordered, he put his hand on her chest to shove her away. Instinctively, she hit at his arm, to get him off of her. The Norman jumped away from her, a look of surprise on his face. Marian spun around, horrified that she had been found out. The man who had made the discovery turned out to be the worst person who could have: Geoffry deLacy, Sheriff of Nottingham.

He had the power to kill her for doing what she had done, and she had a feeling he wouldn't hesitate.

He wasted no time either. "It's a flaming girl! Guards! Arrest this despicable woman!"

--*--

Robin had hoped that this wouldn't happen, but he and Marian had a plan. They had worked it out carefully, covering every aspect of it, even though they hadn't wanted to use it.

Ivan nudged him, "You brought a...a _girl? _But Robin, that's...that's...you could..." Ivan paused, overwhelmed by the idea of it. "Why?"

"Because she deserves it."

"You have a grudge or something? Wanted her to get executed?"

Robin could see that Ivan didn't get it. "No! She likes to do these things, she wanted to—"

"Who cares? She's your friend, whoever she really is, do something! She can't get out of this on her own."

Robin looked at him, and in a skeptical tone said, "Really? Just watch." That was when he took a good look at the man who had caught her. Upon recognizing him, he knew that the plan wouldn't work.

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	6. The Innkeeper's Daughter

**Hey people! I'm not sure if anyone likes this story or not... since I haven't gotten a review since Chapter 3. I know people are reading it, my Traffic tells me that much, but do those same 'people' like it? This where you, the reader, comes in. Please, oh please, review!**

Marian didn't hesitate in running. She took off, shoving past guards, men, and women. She could hear the sheriff's men pounding after her, intent on catching her. However cowardly running away seemed, she couldn't think of any other way: not when it was the sheriff she was dealing with, he was too high of an authority. If he had been a simple man, then she could have used the plan that Robin and she had thought up, but not on the sheriff.

It made her angry that she was being forced to this level of weakness. What had happened to her life? It was falling apart a bit more each day, and there didn't seem to be one thing she could do about it.

She dove into a dark side street and hid behind a large barrel that conveniently leaned against the outer wall of an inn. Leaning up into the wall she could hear the men inside boisterously getting drunk. The guards ran down the alley further into the darkness. She wanted get up and walk back into the fair, but that would surely only result in a similar escapade. She thought for a while, producing a plan from some corner of her mind.

Cautiously, she stood up and began to search for a back door into the inn. There it was!

"I hope this works," she mumbled, as she took her hair out of its braid. She fixed her face into one of horror and distress, not that hard in her circumstance. "Please let me in!" she called as she pounded on the door, all the while hoping the soldiers wouldn't hear and come running. "Please! I just need help, I..." What next? If she said she could pay, she'd make herself a direct target for petty thieves. The door was yanked open, and Marian quickly stepped back and dropped her eyes, trying to play her part. In the doorframe stood a hulking man with a large stomach, not looking the least bit sympathetic.

"I'm sorry, I just need to—"

"I don't care for girls who come banging on my door in the middle of the busiest day I have. Especially not beggar girls who steal their brother's clothes."

"I'm not a beggar. My family—they disappeared yesterday morning, leaving me. I don't know where they—"

"Just leave, and stop making a racket."

"I can pay. My family forgot that there was some money under the mattress," she offered. "I just want to buy a dress, perhaps from one of your daughter's if they have a spare. I really can pay." As she figured the soldiers wouldn't look twice at a girl dressed as...well, a girl. She'd be invisible.

"How much?"

She shoved half the money she had carried with her into his hands. He took one look at it and gestured her inside. As they stepped into the kitchen he called out, "Rinn! Come here, I have a different job for you." A girl about Marian's height and age stopped kneading bread, skittering over to her father. "This girl is buying your spare dress, take her to your room so she can change."

--*--

"Where is she? Ivan, do you see her?" Robin had left the tournament, with Ivan following. Ivan hadn't stopped asking questions about Marian until a few minutes ago. Each of his questions were met by half answers that really didn't tell him anything. They'd been searching for at least an hour, had gone from one end of Nottingham to the other, and were now headed back toward the tournament field, and still Marian hadn't appeared.

"If you expect me to find her in all these people, you're truly mad, I've barely met her."

"Then leave. If you can't help just go." Robin was growing more anxious by the moment, and although he had no doubt that Marian had escaped the guards, it worried him that he couldn't find her. Soon, he'd start asking after her, but how could he pose such a question? 'Excuse me, I'm looking for a girl with dark hair and green eyes, she's wearing men's clothing and running from a bunch of soldiers. You haven't seen her have you?' Oh, yes, that was sure to work.

"I can't even remember what she looks like, Robin, so how about we go into that inn there, and get some food. I'm too hungry to tell one person from the next."

Robin wasn't sure whether or not he liked the idea, but food did sound inviting... "All right, but we ask around for her inside." Ivan gave him a grateful look. "But no drinking, I need you to keep your wits."

Inside the inn, Robin and Ivan found two seats next to the far wall. In a few minutes, a serving girl approached. "What'll it be?" she asked, eyeing Robin and Ivan with a casual business-only gaze.

"Whatever you think will best suit us, but nothing to get drunk on," Ivan told her.

She flashed a smile and said, "I just finished a fresh loaf of bread and there's a fine pot of soup in the kitchen. How about that?"

"Fine," Robin answered, handing over the appropriate amount to pay for two of such meals. The young woman took it and headed back to the kitchen.

--*--

"There's some good-looking men out there," Rinn told Marian, as she came back into the kitchen. "Two just came in, I like the one. Why don't you take them their food? Get a good look at them and tell me what you think."

Marian had been told she could keep her money and work for the dress, the inn was so busy that they wanted an extra hand. Rinn proved to make good company, although she was a bit too preoccupied on men. "They're all the same to me, but I'll try."

Rinn gave a little giggle, and peeked her head out the door into the hubbub of the eating area, dragging Marian with her. "See? That one there," she said, pointing. Marian took one look and almost doubled over laughing. "What's so funny? They're—"

"I know them, that's all. Which one is it that you fancy?" Rinn nodded toward Robin, who had his back to the kitchen, and Marian felt an odd twist in her stomach. Robin had called her jealous earlier, and now it seemed that she was being territorial over him. What was wrong with her? She didn't care for Robin, so what was the problem if Rinn did?

"Okay, that's Robin, I've known him for six years now. You'll like him even more once you get to know him."

"Would you introduce me? Wait, no, that might not be a good idea, he looks like one of those rich fools who overlord us, and the other one looks to be the same. An innkeeper's daughter wouldn't interest them," Rinn said disappointedly.

"Robin doesn't mind me," Marian said to her, to keep up her ruse of being common. "So I don't think he'll mind at all. Is your father going to give you a break from work anytime soon? If he is then I think I could introduce you."

"During the fair he usually lets me go once the noon crowd leaves, but I have to be back well before supper crowd. He'll probably let you leave then too, there won't be much else to do, and you've almost worked it off anyway. Do you think that'll be enough time?" Rinn was ecstatic, ready to burst with happiness. Marian could swear that Rinn's fingers were shaking as she ladled out the bowls of soup. Marian herself was cutting the bread as if it were her worst enemy. Nothing was making any sense to her at all.

"Yeah, it will. I'll tell him when I take out their meal."

--*--

Robin heard the serving girl come up behind him, but her footsteps sounded different, so he decided she wasn't the same one. Her dark hair covered her face when she leaned in to set the bread and soup on the table. "Is there anything else I can getcha?" she asked in an Irish accent that surprised Robin. He wondered what the girl was doing so far from home. "No drinks for ye, lads? Ale? Beer? Back home, me da always says, 'a good drinkin' never did a man harm.' Ah, well, s'pose it's not the same fer every lad."

"Actually," Robin said. "I'm looking for a friend of mine. Do you think you might have seen a young woman with dark hair and green eyes dressed, uh, as—"

"Robin, it's stupid to ask a person where she herself is."

The accent was gone, and now Marian was laughing at him. Why hadn't he even bothered to look at her face? He felt more incompetent then a town fool.

"What are you doing here?"

"I traded a good bit of work for this dress," she said gesturing to the homespun she now wore. Robin noticed that she was also barefoot, looking ever the part of a common woman. "I knew that nobody would bother a normal girl; soldiers won't even look twice at me."

"There, see?" Ivan scoffed at Robin. "And you were all worried about her." Marian raised her eyebrows, knowing that this was filling in just another piece of that ever-present knowledge of what was going on.

"No, I knew she would be fine on her own, and I was right; she's even managed a disguise for herself."

"Either way, I should be able to leave once the noon crowd is gone, so be here then. Oh, and a new friend of mine, Rinn, will be joining us for a while. She's the innkeeper's daughter, the one who used to own this dress."

Was it his imagination, or had a slight shadow crossed her face just then?

"See you then," she said as she headed back to the kitchen.

"That's new," Robin said.

"What?"

"Marian enjoying female company; something I thought I'd never see."

--*--

Almost an hour later, Marian and an elated Rinn met Robin and Ivan outside the inn. Marian could feel the infatuation dripping off the other girl, and as much as she had grown to like Rinn, it annoyed her.

"Where to?" she asked, knowing Rinn was far too caught up in Robin to speak. Slapping her out of it was starting to become rather tempting, more than tempting, even. Why? Why was she being so defensive over this?

"I think we should start walking and see what we want to do as we go," Ivan said. Robin shrugged, and in the same movement edged slightly away from Rinn, who was leaning closer to him with every second.

"Fine with me," Marian said. "Rinn, do you care?" It was a vain attempt to get her to snap out of it. Rinn giggled and shook her head. If she realized how stupid she was acting, maybe she'd quit, so Marian made it a personal goal to get her out of her stupor. She had a feeling Robin would appreciate it, since he was looking more and more uncomfortable with Rinn's attention.

Fifteen minutes later and Marian hadn't succeeded. Rinn was still walking in Robin's shadow and flirting nonstop. Every word she spoke was directed at him, never at anyone else.

Marian decided to ignore it as much as she could, to get rid of the strange emotions that were steaming inside her.

--*--

All three of them felt awkward with Rinn's behavior, Robin especially.

With Marian so close by, getting attention from another girl was the last thing he wanted. He wanted to tell Rinn to shove off, that he had a girl already. But that girl didn't know, didn't want to, and was walking not four feet away from him. What confused him was that Marian was acting uncomfortable and angry with Rinn, skirting around downright yelling at her; asking direct questions of her, and trying to distract her in any way possible.

"I heard that there was a fire-breather in the main square," Marian said.

"That could be fun," Robin agreed.

"I expect there will be a crowd," Rinn put in airily. "We might have to get close and squeeze together."

Enough. She couldn't do this, and it was wrong for him to tolerate it since...well...since he liked somone else.

He was about to tell her so when something caught his eye. A small filthy boy, who looked to be about eight, was being held roughly by a snotty looking Norman. He wasn't able to identify who the Norman might be since he couldn't see his face. He felt an odd responsibility for the boy, like he needed to do something for him.

He nudged Marian, she was, after all, his conspirator in all things. "Hey, I'm going to help that kid. Any ideas?" Rinn was obviously ticked that he had turned to Marian and not her. Too bad.

"I'd say just do it, and take it as you go. Things will come to you as the moment demands. Be careful."

"You aren't coming?"

She was taken aback by his question. "What with everything that already happened today, I thought it would be safer if I didn't."

"Safer? You, worried about being safe? What is the world coming to?"

"Stop tempting me!" She sighed, and said, "Might as well."

"Good. Ivan, keep Rinn here; Marian and I will be back."

He and Marian made their approach. "All right, Marian, that's your little brother. You were supposed to watch him but you lost him around noon, and haven't seen him since. You're worried sick and afraid of what your parents will do if you can't find him." Robin stopped a little ways away and prodded her forward. She assumed her role perfectly, it was one of the many things he loved about her.

"Hey! That's my little brother! Please sir, what has he done wrong?" The boy was perplexed, but tried not to show it.

The Norman turned to glare at her. Oh no, not again. The sheriff's eyes were afire with anger, both at her and her 'little brother'. "He cut my purse, and you, girl aren't much better. What makes you think you can speak to me like that? I swear, I'll see the both of you in prison." Geoffry de Lacy grabbed her upper arm.

Now it was Robin's turn. "She may not be able to speak, but I am."

"And who might you be?" There was an undercurrent of annoyance in his tone, letting Robin know that he didn't like being interrupted.

It was a near repeat of last week. "I am Lord Robert of Locksley, youngest son of the Earl of Huntington."

"I've never heard of you."

"You have now. I want the boy and his sister sent back to their family. I witnessed him being threatened by a gang of older boys, who forced him to turn thief. What else was he to do?"

"Ah, yes, there's a fine example of boys being boys. But, you see, I am still short a purse thanks to him." He held up his cut strings as testimony. They were sliced cleanly through, marking the boy as an experienced cutpurse.

"I'll pay for a new and better one." At this the sheriff shoved Marian and the boy away. Playing the protective sister, Marian placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. Sheesh, but she was good.

"Aren't you the giving sort?" the sheriff mocked.

"To put it simply, yes."

--*--

Marian guided the boy away. Once they were out of sight of the sheriff, she put a few pennies into his hand and told him to go home. With a parting look over his shoulder, he ran off.

She returned to Ivan and Rinn, and noticed that Rinn was boiling in rage from top to bottom. Was all this because Robin had asked for her help rather than Rinn's? Marian had to wonder what she had seen in Rinn to begin with. Whatever it was, she didn't care now.

Suddenly she remembered the dinner.

"Ugh," she said aloud. If she didn't get moving she wouldn't have time to get ready for that dinner.

"What?" Ivan asked.

"I have to go. Tell Robin I'll see him next week."

--*--

"Where's Marian?" Robin had returned and Marian wasn't there.

"She had to leave," Rinn said happily. "Didn't even say why."

"You left out that she said she'd see him next week," Ivan told her as she shot him a disgusted look.

Robin was tired of Rinn's antics, and he could only pretend to ignore them for so long. He should just tell her the truth, and hope she wouldn't be insulted. "Rinn, before you get any ideas, I should tell you that I've been recently betrothed." Rinn's face fell. "I don't know what you thought could ever happen between us, but I'm sorry, it's not going to." He hated breaking girls' hearts. He hadn't had to do it that much, but enough to have a dislike for it.

And enough to know what came next: yelling.

"I should've known that you'd be like the rest of them! So why haven't you given this speech to _Marian?_ I'm sure she'd love to hear it, since it seems to me that she has something for you too!"

Although that would be convenient, Robin knew it wasn't true.

"She and I are just friends, and she doesn't want to be anything other than that; Marian doesn't need to hear it."

"Oh yeah, like I'll believe that!" Rinn screamed behind her as she stormed off.

"Women," Ivan said. "I'll never understand them."

"You aren't alone there, I don't get them either."

**So... What do you think of Rinn? Marian's reaction to her? Robin's reaction? The cutpurse thing? Please let me know... Thanks! I promise that I will thank you personally in my AN before the next chapter!!!**


	7. You?

**As promised I'm going to thank those who reviewed Chapter 6, (in order of when I received them) shilohfan, Outlaw's Daughter, and supersport. You guys are the best. Three reviews!! It's the equivalent of Hugh Dancy walking into the room. See how much your reviews effect me? Hugh Dancy is better than Orlando Bloom any day. **

**Again, I ask you to read, enjoy, and review!**

"Marian!" her father exclaimed. "Where have you been? And why are you dressed like that?" Her father seemed astounded that she had stooped the level of good homespun wool. Really though, he had to be more approving of this than mens' clothes. If he was he didn't let it show. "Your fiancé will be here in less than two hours. How do you expect to be ready on time? Go and get ready this instant. There's a new dress, and some scented oil for your hair. I expect both to be used. Tonight we need to impress him, I want nothing less than that."

Marian retreated to her room to do as he had said. Across her bed lay a deep blue gown that Marian knew she'd detest wearing. She quickly undressed and put on one of her shifts, stowing the homespun dress under the bed so the servant who would _assist_her wouldn't take it away. Her men's clothes had been left in Nottingham, unfortunatly. The homespun would have to do for Sherwood visits until she could scrounge up another set of clothes.

The maidservant came through the door bringing with her a large bowl of steaming water.

The process of getting ready took longer than she could stand. After having her hair washed, combed, and scented she was already tired of sitting still. Two hours later she had blue swishing around her ankles as she descended the stairs to get to her father's solar. He had said that he wanted to see her just make sure everything was to his taste.

In his solar he walked in a slow circle around her, evaluating. "I'm pleased Marian. I hope that your betrothed will be as well. I think you'll like him, he's at least near your age and not some old codger."

"If he were an old codger, I don't think he'd do well in war."

"Yes, indeed," his voice had gone quiet, as if he were deep in thought. The sound of an approaching horse interrupted their stiff conversation. "Come, Marian." He should have added, 'Your doom awaits.'

Dutifully, Marian followed her father. Her fiancé's knock on the door echoed through the manor. Marian stood slightly behind her father as he opened the door. "Thank you for inviting me Sir Collin, I've been looking forward to meeting your daughter." It wasn't possible, but it sounded like Robin's voice talking with her father.

Robin stepped into her manor, looking every inch the earl's son. This wasn't happening! Why hadn't he told her? He had all those chances, all the times she had complained he could have said something. He had practically lied to her. Everything that had happened with the silversmith made sense then; the way he had reacted when she had asked, that her father had been there, everything!

"Then by all means, Lord Robert this is my daughter, Lady Marian Fitzwater."

Marian tried in vain to conceal her scowl when Robin's lips brushed the knuckles of her hand. He gave her an apologetic look, and she, in response, gave him a look of pure fire.

She heard Robin's horse put up a fight with their stable boy, Timothy. "You should better train your horse, Lord Robert," she said, as it was as close to any insult as she could get. The beast calmed and Marian noticed Timothy rifling through the saddlebag. She opened her mouth to say something but Robin spoke before she got the chance.

"It's fine. I asked him to do something for me." That made next to no sense to her, but as long as Robin knew.

Dinner was stiff, with her father at the head of the table, Marian at his left, and Robin directly across from her. Marian spent most of the time kicking Robin under the table just to see him grimace in pain, but at the same time both managed to conceal the haphazard one-sided fight beneath the table.

"Robert, I do believe that we're traveling together to the Holy Lands." That's when Marian realized. She looked up at Robin, to find that he refused to meet her gaze.

"Yes, I think we are."

Robin was leaving on crusade? _Robin_? No, that couldn't be right, could it? He wouldn't leave to go to war, that couldn't be what her father meant. But her father had said that her fiancé was going on crusade...

Robin was leaving. She choked on the pork that suddenly refused to go down her throat, coughing uncontrollably. As she got her breath back, her father asked, "Marian perhaps you should take a breath of fresh air. Robert, would you care to accompany her?"

"Of course," Robin replied, standing up. He walked around to Marian's side of the table and offered his arm, the way that any gentleman would. Marian took it and let him escort her only for the sake of the fact that her father watched.

As soon as they were out of sight and hopefully earshot she yanked away from him. "Why didn't you tell me?" she screamed. "I should have known before this!"

"About which? Our betrothal or... that I'm leaving?"

"Both! There were opportunities for each."

"I wasn't sure how you'd take it, you might have, I don't know, refused to speak to me again. I didn't want—"

"How could you think that? I would have been disappointed that you were leaving, but I wouldn't have been angry about it." Really, how dense was he? "Why do you have to go?"

"My brother, Albert not Charles, is going. My father thought that I should go too; he didn't give me a choice."

"Fight for it! Tell them you don't want to go! Give them reasons you have to stay, I don't care!"

In a pleading voice, "But Marian—"

"Don't give me that!"

Marian's father appeared, with a disgruntled look toward Marian. "Is there a problem?" he asked.

"No, sir," Robin replied in a steady tone. How could he be so calm?

"Good. Let's go back inside, and finish the evening in my solar. Marian, I expect you to be civil from this point forward," he said to her crisply.

"Yes, Father." She threw another glare at Robin, and hissed, "You'll explain this to me in Sherwood tomorrow, so you had beter think of a good excuse." She kept the promise she had made to her father, to the best of her ability, which came easier in her depressed mood. She somehow sat quite still listening to Robin and her father speak of the war. Her eyes misted over, but she kept the tears from escaping. She had to save them for later.

Her mind centered firmly on Robin's leaving. Leaving, and maybe never coming back; dying. If not dying, then taking hundreds of lives to stay alive himself. She remembered eavesdropping on her parents once: Her father had been speaking of a great battle; she couldn't remember the name of it, but he had been confessing to her mother of the carnage he had taken part in. Robin had to be on one side or the other of that carnage... Marian was going to be sick.

Quickly she turned her thoughts to the other end of Robin's leaving: An empty Sherwood. She wasn't sure who would miss him more, herself or the forest. It was a strange thought, but Sherwood surely wouldn't be the same without him wandering around creating mischief.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her father saying, "Marian, did you hear me?"

She hadn't realized she'd been that deep in thought. She shook her head, since she didn't trust her voice not to crack.

He apologized to Robin, who had to hide a chuckle. How could he laugh right now? "I said that Lord Robert has to leave. Please say your goodbyes." If she hadn't known him beforehand, it would have been meaningless to say 'her goodbyes.' What joke all this was.

She noticed a barely concealed look of anticipation cross her father's face. Why would he... Oh, the silversmith's trinket. This could be embarrassing...

Marian stood from her chair and took a few steps toward Robin. "I assure you I'm not this out of sorts all the time. Perhaps next time will go better." Her father cast a reprimanding glance her way for reminding them all.

"I'm sure," he said with slight sarcasm, as he took a small delicate, carved, wooden box the size of a full- grown man's fist from the mantle behind him. It must have been the stable boy's errand. "As a sign of our betrothal, I got you— Well, see for yourself."

As Robin handed it to her, Marian gave him a knowing look. Robin pretended not to notice. She looked at the design decorating the lid. A crescent moon peeking from behind clouds made of silver was inlaid into the deep cherry wood. It had to have been expensive.

Opening it proved a greater shock. She gasped, and looked up at Robin not knowing what she was supposed to say. A silver pendant lay within the box, on it an intricate wolf howled in the night sky, the moon above looking on as it had on the lid of the box. One could see the fur of the wolf blowing back in the wind, something only a master silversmith could accomplish. As for the wolf's eye, there was a tiny emerald sparkling up at her.

Even if she didn't like jewelry, she knew for a fact that this piece was costly. So what if it was rude to think of how much a gift cost? You couldn't mistake it for anything less than what it was.

Robin picked up the necklace and stepped behind her. "It's symbolic," he whispered, untucking her hair from beneath the small chain.

"I... I'm not sure how to thank you... It's... it's..." Too much. Robin shouldn't have to give her jewelry, period.

"Waiting for me to return from the Holy Land will be enough, since it may take a while to get back."

Once he had left, Marian felt the tears she had held back earlier return. Holding them at bay for a little while longer, she went to her room. Her father couldn't see her cry, she wouldn't have been able to give a good reason without telling him about Robin. As a result, it was only the walls that saw her curl into a tight ball and sob.

**So... Do you like it? Let me know! Please??? I'll thank everyone agian...**


	8. Stupid Will

**Guess what guys? I'm going to tell you how they met. It's interesting, I assure you. Anyway, thank you to Neimo17 for the one and only review!!!! In response to the review: Yes, Marian is mad, of course she is! Robin didn't tell her, when he should have. Oh, and I'll thank jjane for Favoriting this story. I like it when people do that; it means they like it. **

Robin couldn't forget the way Marian's hair had felt in his fingers. It had smelled nice, he knew that. What was it? Lavender? Rose? It had been floral, that was all he knew for sure. Flower scents had never been a strongpoint for him, but he wanted to find out what that smell had been. His mother kept roses, he would go smell them and see if it matched Marian's hair.

"Why are you sniffing roses?" Will had come up behind him, as he had decided that it was lavender, not rose.

"Why are you following me around?" Robin shot back. He was annoyed that Will had caught him. His nephew enjoyed nothing more than annoying Robin to pieces. "And it's none of your business why I'm smelling flowers."

"You can tell me why you have an interest in these blooms, or how you and that strange girl, Marian, met."

How did _this_ come up? But then, Will had been pestering him about Marian since the fiasco with the outlaws, so it wasn't a surprise. He didn't want to tell Will how he'd met Marian, it was embarrassing. At the same time, however, it would be more embarrassing to tell him about his slight obsession with her hair. He also had a thing for her eyes, but Will didn't know that yet.

"Come on, Uncle, it has to be a good story. How you stumble on a rebellious girl who doesn't care what people think. I mean, really, this has to be interesting." As soon as Will said that, Robin wanted to laugh at him. Interesting? Yes. Stumbling on a girl? No.

"All right, then. But if you laugh at anything or anyone, you won't hear the rest, that's a promise."

"I wouldn't do that, Uncle," Will said in an innocent voice. "How could you think of me like that?" Will was so dense sometimes.

"Very easily," Robin said with a smirk.

_I didn't believe in luck. Luck wasn't a part of the world, one had to create what one wanted, and leave everything else behind for it. However unfair this truth was, I used to believe it. _

_I stopped believing that truth when I found Sherwood's heart. Well, that's not entirely true. I didn't find it. No, the day I came to it started with me being lost. Dreadfully lost. Ten year old me didn't know where I was going, except that if I went south, I might find a stream that I knew would lead out of the forest towards home._

_"I'm not lost," I told myself. "I know where I am. I'm in Sherwood." Oh yes, the vast forest that goes for miles. My mind went frantic at the idea of being lost. I had heard stories of the outlaws who kept themselves in this forest, and was none too keen on meeting one of them._

_I stumbled along, each passing moment bringing with it a drop of water to feed the plant of fear growing in my stomach. I felt genuinely stupid as well, I should have known where I was. See, I thought I had known every corner of Sherwood. I was senseless to even think it._

_I carried with me a longbow that I had only two years before started attempting to use. It did little good at helping me find my way home. It did help relieve stress though. I discovered this when I stopped altogether and realized how hopeless it all was. Arrow after arrow I shot at that dead stump, precious few hitting it._

_An hour was spent that way, until I heard a sound. A faint rustling, in one of the trees above me, too large for an animal. I looked, and at first didn't see a thing through the dense leaves. Then I saw him. A boy, younger then me, staring down like he knew something I didn't. _

_"Is that all you're going to do?" he asked. "Shoot an old stump?" The boy was too young for an outlaw. If he was one, or an outlaw's son, he didn't intimidate me. _

_"Until I find something better to do," I lied._

_"I could show you my oak tree." _

_"_Your _oak tree? You can't own one of these trees. They belong to the king."_

_"I'll show you, and then you can tell that it's not mine" he said in a haughty tone, as he climbed down from his tree, a young beech, not yet old enough to equal the giants around it. _

_The boy led me through Sherwood, seeming to know exactly where he was going. I envied him that he knew his way while I didn't, especially since he was younger. But still, he knew where he was going._

_When I saw his tree I instantly wanted it for myself. It was huge, rising from the ground, high into the sky, it's roots protruding from the dirt making all sorts of places to sit. Even better, it sat in its own clearing all by itself. The perfect place for anybody at all. _

_"See? This is my tree." A sense of pride came from his voice, as if it really was his._

_"No, it's not," I said without thinking._

_"Well, whose else could it be?" There was a challenge in his voice._

_"I want to fight you for it, and whoever wins will claim the tree."_

_"Fight? Why don't we make it easier and just race to the top? Ready! Go!" Since I was caught by surprise, he got the head start. But climbing trees wasn't something I hadn't done before, and this one was extremely easy to get into with its branches so low. Even with all these advantages, the other boy somehow was still ahead of me. He seemed to know every foothold by memory, while I had to look twice. Not fair._

_"Told you it was mine," the boy crowed at the top, laughing. I was furious, angry that I hadn't beaten a boy smaller than me._

_"I have to know your name then. Give me at least that." I was confused by the strange grin that started to grow on his face. "What?"_

_"You want my name?" _

_I nodded, not sure why the boy thought it was so funny. "All right then. I'm Marian Fitzwater, daughter of Sir Collin Fitzwater." A girl? He was a she? I had been beaten by a girl? This was too much. My pride had been wounded, possibly beyond repair._

_Her dark hair had been cut boyishly short, barely reaching past her chin, and I wondered how she had gotten away with it. As if answering my thought, she said. "My mother cut it short for me, but I'm not aloud to after this. Father pretended not to notice. He loves Aelfleda too much for that."_

_"She's Saxon? But you look so Norman." Her eyes suddenly went flat, glaring at me like I'd insulted her in the worst way. I think I might have even backed a bit away from her, to escape that glare. _

_Marian looked away, sparing me from her deadly green eyes. She dropped down, decending nimbly down the tree. Quickly, I followed, not sure what I had done._

_She was faster than me, as she had proved earlier, and was already walking away by the time my feet hit the ground. I had to run to catch up. "Wait!" I called, hoping that she wasn't really leaving. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you." She kept going. "Please, don't leave."_

_I then realized what she was: half-breed. Fitzwater was a Norman name; Aelfleda, a Saxon one. _

_She still hadn't responded to my apology. Fine then! She could be that way! "Stupid half-breed!" I told her._

_Her fist hit me squarely in the eye. "Don't _ever _call me that, you sod! If you dare do it again, I'll hit you harder, and more than once! As if I expected you to be any sort of a friend. I should have known." _

_"Known what?" I asked, probing under my eye, and wincing. I was sure I'd have a black eye in an hour or so. "I wouldn't mind being your friend."_

_"Oh? Then explain why you called me that." Her malignant glare had returned._

_I stepped carefully when I thought of my answer. "I was angry, that's all. I'm sorry."_

_"Good, you should be. What's your name?"_

_"Robert of Locksley. If you still want to be my friend, though, you can call me Robin."_

_"All right, Robin, you should know that I'm not sorry I hit you. And that my threat still stands that if you call me half-breed again or insult me in any way..." She threw me a mocking smile, and raised a fist. "Just so you know for the future." _

"Losing to a girl and being hit by one in the same day? You _are_ pathetic, Uncle." It was easy to tell that Will was trying hard not to burst out laughing.

"Shut up, Will."

**Well... I'll say that I worked pretty hard at this scene, since I rewrote it at least three times. I like this one the best and want to know whether or not you readers like it at all. (hint hint) Anyway, I have BBC Robin Hood Season 2 (yes, yes, I know what happens at the end! And it kills me as well as her!! My favorite character of the whole legend... gone and dead...) on DVD from the library so I'm sneaking away now. Review! Please??**


	9. Leaving

**Okay, uh, there was a mix-up when I was sending documents to my beta, and he didn't get this one, so it's a bit raw... sorry. Thank you again to shiloh fan for reviewing the last chapter! I'll say the same about you of you review this one... Or any other chapter...**

**Oh yeah, and this is the first of four new chapters if you didn't notice!**

Robin saw Marian leaning against the Great Oak, wearing the homespun again, with a look of wrath painted on her face. Knowing he would be the receiver of her wrath anyway, he said, "Please, don't be too angry." It was all for nothing of course, he knew that; she'd be angry no matter what he said or did.

"I might consider it if you say that everything that happened yesterday wasn't real," she said, her tone low.

"I'm sorry, I wanted to tell you, but—"

"'But' what? 'But' I wouldn't understand? 'But' you weren't sure how? Come on! Those don't even qualify as a good excuse, much less a reason for you to go die in the desert without telling me." Her expression hadn't changed. Marian didn't seem to understand that he didn't want to go to war. Why would he? Somehow, he had to make her see that.

"I would have told you."

Marian stood before him, her eyes full of hurt. "My father leaves in two weeks. That means you are too." Her voice was quiet and menacing. Suddenly her palm connected forcefully with his cheek. Robin knew he deserved it, and that Will was going to laugh about it later if he found out.

"You insulted me by not telling me sooner, so I'm keeping my promise." That had only been the second time she'd hit him, despite all the slight insults he cast her way through the years. But then, she had known those were in the name of good fun and she had thrown several insults back. This time it was different.

"I know, and I'm sorry," he said, his cheek stinging.

"Quit apologizing! I don't want to hear you say those words." Marian stomped back to the oak, and settled herself into its roots. Robin joined her, while forcing himself to keep silent, since he didn't want to upset her. This silence stayed for fifteen minutes, each second dragging itself by. Robin breathed in the air, knowing that he wouldn't get another chance to after that day. It was his last day with Marian under Sherwood. He couldn't possibly come in the weeks following; he was going to be so busy preparing for the crusades.

So as not to waste time, he echoed his thoughts aloud, "This is my last day here."

"I'm not going to believe that," Marian said in a cold voice tinged in sadness.

"I wish I could say the same." His life was dramatically altering, and so was hers thanks to him. He hoped whoever she was being sent to wouldn't destroy her personality and ruin her. That would be too much. He'd never forgive himself. But then if she had been forced to marry anyone else, would her spirit have been crushed by that man anyway? He couldn't know, and hoped he had made the right decision.

Marian was silent again, and he couldn't take it anymore. "Do you know who you're being sent to? And when?"

"No, but I'm going a week after you leave for the Holy Land. Are you surprised? Or did you already know how soon I was leaving?" There was no emotion in her voice; it was as blank as her expression.

"I asked you didn't I?" He realized that his voice was too admonishing. Marian would react to it for sure. Robin waited for it, but nothing happened. Marian was sitting very still and staring into the empty air, her eyes not seeing anything. He found himself staring at her, trying to take everything about her in all at once.

In a few minutes time she caught him. She narrowed her eyes briefly, but didn't say anything. Robin didn't look away, but kept his eyes exactly as they had been before, not wanting to miss anything.

"Enough," Marian said, elbowing him harshly. There was no glare though. She didn't seem mad, which surprised him. She could have slapped him again without it being out of turn.

He wanted to know what she was thinking at that moment. It was tempting to ask, but instead he said, "I, uh, probably should go home. I wasn't supposed to come at all today. There are things I have to do."

"Like what?" She betrayed absolutely nothing with her tone.

"Sword practice. I want to stay alive after all." He stood, not ready to leave but knowing he had to. "If I do stay alive, I'll see you who knows when. Goodbye, Marian." He realized how much he loved the way her name sounded in his mouth and wished she'd say something to make him stay longer, but she didn't. Robin began to walk away, not knowing what else to do.

He had left the clearing before he heard her call for him to wait. Marian ran up to him, and said, "You didn't say goodbye. You can't leave without saying goodbye."

"But I did," he responded, confused.

She shook her head. "This is how people say goodbye." Suddenly Marian's arms were around him, and he felt at least twenty feet off the ground, even though his feet were planted on the earth. "Goodbye," she said just above a whisper. Quickly she ducked out of the hug, taking several steps back and crossing her arms. "That's how you do it."

--*--

Marian watched him walk away, wanting to run after him again. She wanted to beg him to stay for a while longer. "Please don't go," she whispered at his now far off, retreating back. "I'm not ready for you to leave me here. Not yet."

**How did I do? PLEASE... please tell me!**


	10. Alone

**The second one! **

"Marian! Your father wanted you there an hour ago!" Martha yelled to her. Marian, in her room knew it was the other woman's fault. Martha had insisted she finish her daily chores before heading off to wherever she was supposed to be going. No one had told her who she was staying with, just that she was. She grabbed her dagger, hurriedly shoving it to the bottom of her trunk. Her wolf pendent dangled around her neck. As the time passed without Robin the piece had become more important to her with every passing second. She put hand on it, closed her eyes and searched for something in the back of mind to lighten her mood. Nothing helped.

She closed the lid of the trunk and latched it. She lugged the thing out into their hall, glancing around. She really just wanted to get out of there. Not that she wanted to learn how to take care of her household, but because of the memories the home had. Her mother, Aelfleda, had died here. After that it hadn't seemed like home anymore. Her father had turned into a hermit, never leaving his solar. Any smile that he gave anyone was forced.

It had been different before. She had been free to go to her Sherwood. Her father then found it hilarious, and had thought it only a strange way to have fun. But, his heart had hardened into stone after Aelfleda's death. Nothing held light for him, and Marian had a feeling he had left on crusade just be rid of all the reminders in his own home.

Martha charged into the hall, her face a bright red. "Marian, I'm ashamed of you! You're too lazy for your own good. Your father should've taught you self discipline!" The woman gave her an angry look. "Tobias is driving the cart around to the front, you'll put your things in there." Marian began dragging the trunk to the front door, wondering why Martha was in a bad mood.

Outside, Tobias was waiting. The man sat up in his seat as she approached. "Need any help getting that trunk in?" he asked dutifully. Although Marian was stronger than most girls she accepted the offer. He jumped out of his spot, as Marian gave the man a polite smile of thanks. A cold December wind whipped her hair around her face. She hoped it wouldn't take long to get where she was going.

He grabbed her belongings and heaved them into the cart. Tobias was in his mid-twenties, and he had blond curls that bounced when he moved. His eyes were a deep blue and caused many women to be charmed by his appearance, but Marian wasn't. She tried not to fall into the category of girls who swooned at the sight of a handsome man, and she had succeeded splendidly. Almost. She had discovered the rare exception to her rule because of Rinn. Although she had never swooned, she knew that there had been _something_ there.

Tobias leaped back into the driver's seat, he offered Marian a hand up, but she ignored it entirely. Tobias flicked the reigns and the old horse pulling them plodded forward at strikingly slow pace. "Do you know where you're going?" Tobias asked, trying to make small talk.

"No," she said simply, knowing that he at least knew.

"Oh." And that was all the words they exchanged during the whole trip. Marian realized that they were going toward Nottingham; she wondered who her father knew there. She continued to contemplate this until the cart stopped abruptly, startling Marian from her thoughts. "Welcome to Nottingham Castle," Tobias said blandly. No, anywhere but there! What if the sheriff recognized her from the fair? Nothing good could come from this arrangement.

Marian pretended she didn't care, as she looked at her new home, sizing it up to its full height. She had seen the structure before, but never once had she been inside. Well, that would soon be remedied. It just stood on a high crevasse overlooking Nottingham, casting a forbidding shadow over the town. It looked dark and dreary, just a pile of stone. She would have rather crawled into a hole than spend two seconds inside that... that..._thing._

But she had no choice, as Tobias continued toward it, and before long she was at the front door. She looked at it in disgust. Tobias flung open the doors and walked in, Marian followed, feeling oppressed by the castle with every step. Its dark interior looked just as foreboding as the outside did. Although colorful tapestries layered the walls, shadows encased them. She looked down and realized that she was walking on an expensive looking rug. How did her father know this man? The sheriff was rich, it seemed. Why would he bother with a lowly knight with only a tiny plot of land to his name? Tobias led on, walking toward a man who seemed deep in counsel with another, who was briskly dismissed as Tobias approached. Marian stayed put. She wanted to estimate the sheriff before she was formally introduced, get a good look at him beyond what little she had noticed at the fair. He was smaller than average and stood as if he thought he should rule the world. Marian disliked him even more.

"This is Lady Marian Fitzwater, daughter of Sir Collin Fitzwater." Tobias had taken the duty of introducing her on his own shoulders. The sheriff looked at her with very apparent disinterest.

"And this is Geoffrey de Lacy, Sheriff of Nottingham. You will be staying with him until you are declared fit to run a household. I believe his wife, Organa, is to be teaching you. I'll leave your things here and be on my way."

The shadows shifted as a tall female figure with prim smile on her face came forward, her skirts brushing lightly over the over the stones. Marian looked at the woman, realizing this was de Lacy's wife. Organa had thin lips that were pressed together in a thin smile. Her eyes were small and dark, though not beady, and they looked at her down a long nose. To top it off her hair was black, like the feathers of a vulture almost.

Organa gave her a forced smile, "Well, this must be Marian." Her little dark eyes looked her up and down, taking in her windblown hair and outdated dress. "I can see why they sent her here." Marian decided to take that as a compliment, not sure how else she could take it.

De Lacy leaned toward his wife and said in a low voice, "My dear, do you remember that wench I told you about? The one who tried to get away with entering the archery match?" Organa nodded crisply while Marian was ready to bolt out the door. "Well, this is the same girl."

Marian enjoyed seeing the shock on her face. She grinned to herself, and wondered what had gone through the woman's mind when she had heard. At least they knew what she was made of now. Organa seemed shaken, "We will see to it that she does nothing of the sort ever again. She will learn that women are a fragile and delicate creatures, and if she disagrees with it now, her mind will certainly be changed by the end of her stay."

Marian mentally challenged her to try. Women didn't have to be delicate. Instead of becoming a refined lady, she would be a rebel for this woman. She would make herself a rodent that ran in front of her and caused her to leap on a chair and scream. What a treat that would be! If only she didn't have to live with her and the sheriff at the same time.

"Are you going to punish her for it?" Organa asked, with an almost hopeful look on her face.

"Of course," the sheriff said in a sure voice.

Marian grew nervous, not sure what to expect as a punishment. She didn't know the agreement between this man and her father, but she was positive it would affect whatever de Lacy had in mind.

Tobias had brought her things, but hadn't heard a word of what had just been said. A servant directed him to Marian's rooms and a short time later he walked out the door without a second glance.

"You there! Guard!" De Lacy's sudden outburst startled Marian. "Take this girl to the dungeon. A few days down there should help her learn not to defy me."

**I am on my knees begging for a review...**


	11. Dungeon

**I decided to be cruel, yes I know. It was surprisingly fun, I'll have to do this more often... within reason.**

Marian almost laughed in his face. That was it? The best he could think of?

Then she heard Organa's soft whisper, "Oh, is Sir Collin the one you made that deal with?"

What deal? Her father had made a deal with this man? Whatever it was, it was lessening her punishment. Women had been executed for less than what she had done at the fair.

Rough hands grabbed her arms and half led, half dragged her away. As they led into the darkness of the dungeon, she remembered a bet she'd made with Robin once when they had been nine and twelve after they had snuck into Huntington Hall and stolen quite a few sweet cakes from Robin's pantry.

"I wonder which of us will make to a dungeon first…" she had thought aloud.

"If we keep this up, we'll be put down at the same time." He had sounded so certain about it.

"No, I'll make it first," she said, as if it would have been an honor.

"That's what you think. I think I'll prove you wrong."

Marian smiled at the memory. "I won, Robin," she said, even as her wrists were manacled to the wall in her cell. She should've been unhappy about being put into a dungeon. The floor beneath her was cold and wet, and she could hear a rat running across it on the other side of her cell. Why didn't Marian care? Because she had won the bet. Even with Robin traveling miles away straight into a deathly war, she was still winning a bet against him. If she was remembering correctly, now they were even.

Once he got back, this would make for an interesting story to tell him. If he came back. And _if _he returned, she knew that things wouldn't be the same. He would be changed, just like every other man who went to war. From what Marian knew, it affected everyone differently. What she didn't know was what would change in Robin. Nothing too severe like losing his mind, she hoped.

Food or water didn't come, and her imprisonment began to seem like more of a penalty than it had before. For three days she waited, wondering when she would be released. Her tongue went dry, but she couldn't summon any spit to wet it again. Her stomach was none too pleased either; growling at her, and demanding nourishment. But she wasn't the only one; she had watched prisoner after prisoner being brought down. Each time she wondered what their crime had been.

Marian gained a cellmate on her third day; a thirteen-year-old girl who had stolen an apple or two during market day. When the girl asked why Marian was there, she had told her about the archery tournament, recounting the tiniest detail for her, even though it gave her a pounding headache. The girl's eyes had grown wide in excitement.

"I saw you there," she said. "I wish I could've done something like that. Being down here would've been worth it then. I wouldn't have minded losing a hand."

"When does the sheriff plan on taking it?" Marian asked, feeling sorry for the girl and wishing she could help.

"Tomorrow morning, I think."

Suddenly, bright torchlight bounced off the walls, making Marian blink in surprise at the nearly painful light. A guard had come to escort her back to the castle. The thought was relieving; water was close at hand. She rubbed her chafed wrists when the manacles were removed.

"Come on, then," the guard said, pulling Marian to her feet, whether or not he knew that she wouldn't have been able to by herself. "The sheriff and his wife are waiting for you. I don't want to be responsible for holding them up."

--*--

Marian squinted at the bright light of day, wondering what she looked like to the people working in the castle, with her dress in ruin, and hair in tangles. She was sure they knew who she was, looking at her the way they were. Their condescending glances, however, meant nothing to her. How could they look down on her, when they knew nothing?

As they approached the main hall, she heard shouting.

"Sheriff, you can't do this!" a distinct Saxon voice said. "As earl I can authorize it. There is no reason for you to keep that right from me. I refuse to—"

"I did not invite you here to argue with you. Leave now or suffer for it. I have other business to attend to." After a pause, "Go on, I said!"

The guards brought her into the room, leading her as if she were still prisoner. Marian supposed that she was. The Saxon man who had been quarrelling with de Lacy was about to storm out the door, and Marian caught a look at his face. He seemed familiar somehow, but she couldn't place it.

"Ah," the sheriff said. "The _Lady_ Marian Fitzwater, returning from the dungeon, I've been waiting for you." He cast a scornful look towards the guard.

The Saxon man stopped and turned around, looking at Marian in the queerest way. "You're Lady Marian Fitzwater?"

"Of course she is, didn't you hear me, Huntington?" de Lacy asked.

Huntington? The light dawned, and Marian realized that he was Robin's father. This was going to be interesting. She just hoped her knees would support her until the end.

"Why was my son's fiancée imprisoned?"

"Oh, didn't you hear about the girl who entered the archery tournament at my fair? I thought everybody knew by now. Strange isn't it that your son didn't tell you? I wonder if he had something to do with it. Hmm… That gives me something to think about. But, didn't I ask you to leave? Move!"

"Archery tournament, eh girl? No wonder he picked you," the earl said as he left the hall. Marian wasn't sure what to make of Robin's father, so she let it slip from her mind for the time being.

"Well then, Lady Marian, can I assume that your accommodations were to your liking?" The sherriff's tone said clearly that he didn't mean a word of it.

"I liked them very much, thank you," Marian said, making it full of conviction.

The sheriff scoffed in response. "I'm sure." Turning to Organa, he said, "My dear, she's all yours. And for the sake of my nose, make sure she bathes." He made it seem as though Marian was at fault for the smell. She wanted to tell de Lacy that _he _was the one who had decided that the dungeon was the place for her.

Organa directed her to her rooms, where Marian found her trunk set unopened. Good, they hadn't gone through her things. Before Organa came back, she quickly opened the trunk and found her dagger. Stowing it away under the mattress she kept an eye on the door to make sure she wasn't caught. Just as she was stepping away to lean agianst a wall, the door opened to Organa leading an old servant woman lugging an empty tub behind her. A full bath? That was odd; Marian had thought that it simply would have been a basin of water and soap to clean up with.

She hadn't noticced until then that there was a pitcher of water and cup waiting for her. After the first cup she said, "Hey Robin, next time one of has to be in a dungeon, you can go." It wasn't until after her fourth cup that she realized that Organa was giving her strange look.

"Down to your shift," Organa ordered, recovering. Marian obeyed, throwing the witch a nasty look. The servant woman returned carrying a bucket of steaming water and dumped into the tub. Another younger servant entered, and Organa instructed her to comb Marian's hair until it was completely free of knots, large, or small. The old servant came in and out with water all the while.

Marian sat still as the girl combed out her hair, keeping an eye on Organa who was looking through Marian's trunk. She heard a little sigh escape her pursed lips. "These won't do at all. All of these garments are too plain and old-fashioned for you to wear any longer. I'll have them burned and bring new gowns for you."

Marian jumped from her seat, causing the comb to yank her hair painfully. She hissed in pain and said, "Don't you dare! I like those, and they're fine for me."

"No, none of these are fit to be worn." Organa looked through them again. "Except maybe this blue one," she said, holding up the gown Marian had worn for the betrothal dinner.

"But—"

"They will be burned, like it or not." Organa set aside the blue one and moved the trunk into a corner. "Your hair is done now, get into the bath."

"Do you want to take off your necklace first, milady?" the girl asked. The question drew Organa's eye to Marian's neck where she gave out a little gasp.

"Where did you get that?" she asked, suspicious.

"It's mine, and don't even think of melting it in a furnace," she said rudely, reaching back and unclasping the small chain.

"Where on earth did you get it?"

"Rob—," she stopped herself. "My fiancé gave it to me as a betrothal gift." Marian set it on the bedside table, and stepped into the tub, her shift filling with air as she sat down.

"A real emerald…" Organa murmured, having gone so far to pick it up for examination. Marian would have leaped out of the tub to snatch it back, but the servant girl had started washing her hair already.

--*--

The next morning Marian awoke late, knowing it had to be early afternoon by then. She hadn't sat up in bed willingly though, a scream had pierced through her sleep. Marian remembered what the young girl she had shared a cell with had said about when she would lose her hand: 'Tomorrow, I think.'

Marian swung her legs out of bed and ran to her window. There, in the courtyard beneath her, was the same girl writhing on the flagstones. Without a right hand. Marian seethed, as she heard the sheriff say, "Now go, before I take the other one too." The girl struggled to her feet and hurried away, going as fast as she could.

That wasn't right, somebody should have done something. _She _should have done something. But what good would that have done? She scowled, knowing that she couldn't have helped if she wanted to.

Wait a minute, what was the date today? Marian usually tried to keep track in her head what day it was. The time in the dungeon had thrown her off. Let's see… January sixth? If that was true then Robin was seventeen. She felt a smile crack her face, "There, see? I didn't forget."

Marian wondered if she'd continue talking to the air as if Robin were standing next to her. She'd never done it before… but then, Robin had never been away from England before either.

**Your mind is yelling at you to review. I can hear it from here.**


	12. Letter

**I worked hard on this one... **

3 Years Later, Acre, 1191

Robin slashed through the Saracen's abdomen, turned, and stabbed another behind him. Both fell dead, and to each Robin said in a low voice, "Sorry." He had taken to doing so since the beginning. It had become habit, along with the killing. He hated killing with such a passion! But the only way to avoid it was to be killed himself, and being nineteen, he felt too young to die. But the near constant smell of death and blood had become a part of life, along with the knowledge that any day his life could end.

The last of the Saracens retreated, leaving the camp outside Acre's walls to its occupants. Robin stepped over the bodies of the men he had just killed, surveying the rest of the damage. A few of the tents were utterly destroyed, but more importantly men had fallen. Most of them were Saracens but there were more than a few Christians as well. Did he know any of them? Although Robin had been careful not to make friends, knowing that most would die, he still knew various others. When the king had arrived, he had for some strange and unbeknownst reason, taken Robin as a personal companion, sharing almost everything with him; food, weapons, his tent. It made most everyone his enemy, since he was favored. So well favored in fact, that he was on a first name terms with Richard.

Albert had died early on, his lust for battle making him vulnerable. Robin had made an attempt to tell him that he shouldn't be so eager, but it hadn't turned out well.

Then Robin recognized a face among the fallen Christians: Marian's father. He was still breathing, and Robin rushed to his side. "Sir Collin?" Robin wondered if the man could hear him. His wounds were mortal; perhaps he was already too far gone.

"Robert, I…" Sir Collin stuttered, his face full of pain. "Tell…" He stopped to regain his breath.

"Tell who what?" Robin asked, hoping it wasn't too late.

"Marian…" the old knight breathed. "That…I died… with honor."

"I will, I promise you." As soon as the words were out, Marian's father stopped breathing, and was still. Robin wasn't sure what to think. Sir Collin had been his last link to Marian, and if he had survived, would have been his future father-in-law. It was the man's dying wish for him to write Marian, which he'd gladly do for him.

But it that meant he had to ask Richard for the materials, even though they were scarce. Richard, however, didn't hesitate. So Robin was sitting at the king's desk, quill poised above parchment, not sure how to begin. The candle beside him spat and wavered, mirroring his own hesitation. How on earth should he address her? It had been years, who knew what she thought of him anymore? So he started simple:

_My Marian,_

He stopped and wondered what Marian would think of that. By law she was his, so it couldn't be too wrong to say so. It was there now, anyway.

_I'm afraid I'm writing with some bad news. Your father died today, and he charged me to tell you. He said to say that he died in honor, although I don't think there is any honor to be found here. We're outside the walls of Acre, laying siege. Often, Saracens decide to harass us, and that's how he was killed. I'm sorry, even though I know you never liked him all that well._

_I'll give an explanation for the Royal Seal. I'm friends with the king, and he wanted to make sure that this letter would get to you as soon as possible. Richard made me sort of a son to him, in a way. That's the best way to describe it. _

_I'm not at all sure what I should say. It's hard when I have no idea what you've been up to. I should tell you to work on your aim, but you probably don't have a bow to practice with. I could ask if you've been too much trouble for England to handle, but the last I knew you were being sent away somewhere. Why that should stop you, I don't know. _

_Wherever you are now, don't let them change you too much. Unless they have already, which would be a shame and I'm serious, it would be. Don't scowl at me; I'm just saying what's on my mind. _

_I should stop here before I get ahead of myself._

_Robin_

He folded it carefully. "I love you," Robin said, wishing he could have written it.

The king entered and Robin quickly stood and bowed his head in recognition. "How many times do I have to tell you that you don't need to do that, Robin?"

"At least a few more, Your Majesty," was Robin's response. It was the same one he gave every time the king asked him that question.

"Finished already? Don't you have more to say to her? From what you've told me of the girl, I'd have expected a longer correspondence."

Yes, Robin had told Richard about Marian. The king had asked if Robin had a woman at home; and Marian was his, so Robin had told him. He had left out only how they had met, which was one thing that he had skipped for the sake of his pride.

"She wouldn't have wanted to hear most of what I wanted to say. Otherwise I would have written at least two more pages of the sappiest things you'd have ever read," Robin said in all seriousness.

Richard laughed his deep guttural laugh, and Robin wanted to as well, but he hadn't found anything funny since he had come here.

Richard sat down and held the sealing wax to the flickering flame that the candle gave off. Robin watched as the king pressed his seal into the warm wax, hurrying Robin's words to Marian ever faster. "Now," the king said. "Where do I have my man take this?"

Robin answered, "Directly into the hands of Marian Fitzwater, at Fitzwater Manor, Southwell."

**Is the computer yelling at you to review now too? Really?**


	13. Recieving Mail and Suicide

**Time flies, but my characters aren't having fun. Except for right here, anyway. :)**

Marian, now sixteen nearly seventeen, was in one of her worst pastimes; a sewing circle. She was still under Organa's watchful eye and Marian didn't like embroidery any more than she had when she was fourteen, even if she had improved. At the moment she was working on a tapestry of a grand hunt. In her scene the boar had been cornered in a rock crevice, and one of the hunters had his spear raised above his head, ready to kill the poor beast. Her steel needle went through the heavy cloth, over, and in again. The boar's tusk was nearly finished, and Marian was eternally glad. She had had no end of frustration with the stupid thing.

A knock sounded outside the heavy wooden door behind her. "Enter," Organa called. The door creaked open and young man with chestnut hair stepped inside.

"I'm to deliver this directly into the Lady Marian Fitzwater's hands," he said, holding up a folded parchment. "I went to her home and was directed to this castle." Organa stood, and the page started for her. Just before he handed it to her, Marian snatched it away.

"I will read it for myself," she hissed. "Who sent it?" she asked.

"King Richard the Lionheart sent me, milady. Although the letter itself is from a friend of his." Marian glanced down, and sure enough, pressed into the red sealing wax were three lions stacked on top of each other. She put aside her tapestry and walked to a corner.

Marian cracked the seal, wondering what made this letter so important, and who the 'friend' was. Her eyes scanned over the words, and to the signature below. As she read it, a delight far past any she had experienced before filled her. Robin.

Just to know that he lived would have made her day, but to receive a letter that he had written…it was the best thing to happen to her for quite some time. She pored over every word and sentence. She could almost hear Robin speaking to her. He hadn't made it very long, but she didn't care. Even the news that her father had died didn't dampen her spirits. As far as she was concerned he had died a long time ago, when he lost his wife.

What he had said made her think for a few moments. Had she changed? Yes, she had, but not in a drastic way. She still despised embroidery, wanted her freedom, and hated being told what to do. Marian of Sherwood, however, seemed to have met a different fate. When was the last time Marian had been that girl? Not since Robin's departure.

_Wherever you are now, don't let them change you too much._ _Unless they have already, which would be a shame and I'm serious, it would be._ "They haven't, Robin," Marian said in a low whisper.

"Who is it from?" Organa asked with her voice slightly angry.

"My fiancé, he wrote to tell me of my father's death."

"Then why do you look so happy?" Organa asked disapprovingly.

Marian didn't answer, but instead sat back down to work on her tapestry, the letter beneath it on her lap.

Two more years slowly passed, each month seeming just like the one before. And Marian was starting to have strange feelings. Every time she reread Robin's letter her heart beat faster and she grew a bit lightheaded. She didn't like it at all, not wanting the way she felt about Robin to change. But, at the same time, she knew that things could never be the way they were before between them. These facts were eating at her constantly; they were the sole thought that constricted her from concentrating on what she was doing. It annoyed her so much that she put his letter away and didn't touch it again. But, still her mind took up the burden of the possibility that she was in the pit of love, the thing she had always tried to shy away from in her early adolescent years.

--*--

The siege of Acre had finally ended, the Christians had conquered it, now the army had moved on to Arsurf. They were in the midst of a battle that the Turks were losing dramatically. If things kept up this way it would be a sure victory. But, Robin didn't care about anything anymore. His heart was empty, void of any feelings. He could have cared less if he dropped dead on the sand beneath him. Nothing held any merit for him, not even the thought that he had lived through five years of crusading. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed, or even smiled. His world was gone; it had vanished into another time, but the current surroundings remained, and he was still battling Turks.

After he felled one man, he would turn and start on the next one. Each man would fall to the ground and a pool of blood would collect around him. Robin hardly noticed the screams of pain rising around him. He had been hearing them for years, they were a part of his world now. Robin parried the other man's attempted blow. He was getting tired, his sword feeling heavier than it should have. He had a feeling that his life was going to end within the next five minutes. Even so, he didn't care; if anything he was looking forward to it. It would be the end to his miserable, worthless life. He couldn't think of one person on the battlefield, besides Richard, who would care. He couldn't even think of anyone who would care at home. And if they did, they shouldn't. He didn't care, why should they? Why should they care if somebody as wretched as he was died?

A man fell dead to the ground behind him, and he tripped and landed on his back, on top of the dead man, staring up at the blazing sun above him. He didn't think he was too young to die anymore, even as he neared twenty-one. He watched the Turk for the death strike he would surely try for, not even wanting to get up and keep fighting. No, he wouldn't get up, nothing mattered anymore, and his life could end here. Robin threw his sword to the side, giving up and looking forward to his death, and the end of his existence.

The Turk knelt down beside Robin and hissed, "Do you know what I will do now?"

"Kill me. Take your time if you want to, I don't mind. Please, I just don't want to live anymore." The Turk smiled. "Thank you, you're doing me the greatest favor I could ask for." Robin meant what he said, every word. He closed his eyes to life, impatient for breath to leave him.

The hilt of the Turk's blade crashed into Robin's skull, and he dove into the blackness willingly.

**I'm cruel to Robin aren't I? And you too! Tell just how cruel I am by clicking right below!**


	14. Remembering Marian

**OK, here this is... I know it took a while, sorry. Thank you to shilohfan, MJVdl, 13piecesofmyheart, Rawr I'm A Toaster, and elizabeth marrain. We've established my cruelty last chapter, I think. BUT THIS TIME we will delve farther into that. Along with the next one as well. Which should be up next week sometime... Not sure if it'll be on Monday or not. No later than Tuesday, though. **

When Robin awoke he knew that something was wrong. He should be lying on a dead man, not on a stone floor. He sat up, and he noticed a weight on both wrists. Chains? He had been taken prisoner. Why? If they could kill thousands, why couldn't they kill him? He wished they had, he really did. He wished that they had cut him to pieces and left it all for their dogs. Why couldn't he have just died? What did his captors care about him? What did anyone care about him?

Suddenly, Robin's head began to swirl at dizzying speeds. Sleep, he should sleep. Maybe he would die while he slept. Instead, while he was asleep, he remembered. It was one little scene of his past life. He couldn't see anything, just hear.

_"What's it going to be?" said a girl's voice. He didn't recognize it; couldn't put a name or face to it._

_"I don't know. It doesn't matter to me anyway," his voice replied. It was younger, so much younger._

_"I'll try and figure it out for you."_

"_Fine, go ahead and try. I don't think you'll be able to though. It's just a random stick."_

_"A dare then?" She laughed. "Watch me win." He heard himself laugh under his breath and it shocked him. "Let's see... That could be a wing there, but the neck would be too thin for a bird... unless it was a heron or something like that. Hey! That's what it is. See, look there— Ow, watch it!" _

_"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. Can I help somehow? I could—"_

_She laughed again, even after he had hurt her. It didn't make sense. "Oh come on, stop. It's fine. The cut isn't that deep, I can just suck on it and it'll stop bleeding."_

_"I'm sorry." _

_"Stop apologizing already, I'm fine. You'd think you cut off my finger or something..."_

He awoke with a jolt, confused. Who had that girl been? No girl would have said half of what she had said. Sucking on her finger to make it stop bleeding? Nobody did that in public, and girls wouldn't even do it in private. Wait, a name was coming to him. Maria? Marie? No, that wasn't it. Mary? Mary Anne? Marian!

"Marian." Her name sounded _empty._ He couldn't remember a thing about her, except that she had been different somehow. For the next hour he tried to remember everything about her, every last little detail. His mind seemed to refuse, as if didn't want her in its territory. Robin, however, did; more than anything he wanted her there.

Marian's face came to mind and everything she had ever done, every word she had said, every dirty look she had thrown at him. She had been an untamed girl, and he had liked her for it.

What he would give to be home, away from all the blood and killing, to be with his family and friends. He wouldn't even mind dealing with Will. Even if it was just for three minutes, he wanted to be _home._ The word had never sounded so wonderful before. Something had to give, and he had to get back. If it meant being a coward and leaving on his own then he would. He knew he couldn't take it anymore.

Marian. Robin knew he was missing something about her. Something he hadn't remembered yet. Her eyes were plastered into his mind, staring at him, piercing his soul. The realization came: he loved her. He had loved her since before he had left. Then why had he forgotten? After contemplation, he decided it was because love didn't belong in war, and his mind had sent Marian away on purpose.

She was his fiancée! The sudden memory made him so happy that he forgot everything else for a second. Marian would marry him when he returned, it had been agreed.

The side of his head where the Turk had hit him began to pulse, and he felt himself losing consciousness again.

_Robin kissed the back of Marian's hand. She was no longer the girl he remembered, but a woman. A gorgeous woman, who he didn't deserve. Her mysterious green eyes were alight in happiness, but there was a sense of sadness there. Why?_

_Marian, with a sense of desperation, rushed into a full kiss, leaving nothing behind. It was heaven until she was abruptly wrenched away by a man who seemed familiar somehow. _

_Utter blackness surrounded him when a scream filled the air. Marian! Robin was standing outside a castle courtyard, smoke billowing into the air, accompanied by the smell of burning flesh. They were burning Marian. Her screams of pain filled his ears. He had to take away her pain, and it didn't matter how. _

_The only entrance was guarded by twenty men, a battle he'd surely lose. Another scream filled his ears, reminding him that they were burning everything he cherished. Robin tried to climb the wall, but it was too high, and there were no footholds. He kept trying until his fingertips bled. There was no way in! Her screams died away, and still Robin attempted to get over the wall, refusing to believe that Marian was no more._

_"You're too late, Robin Hood," the man who had taken Marian away sneered. "Your precious wife is dead; burned to ash. Didn't you hear her begging to be rescued? Ah, but no help came. You failed her."_

Robin shook himself from the nightmare, horrified. No! Marian wasn't dead, she was alive and well in England, waiting for him to come home. He hadn't failed her in any way. No harm would come to her. Ever. He would make sure of that.

What had the man called him…'Robin Hood'? That wasn't his name, and meant nothing to him. Did that mean that the man in the dream wasn't him? But then…Marian wasn't his. Marian was in the arms of 'Robin Hood'.

It was only a dream, it wasn't real, but Robin was still determined to get home and protect Marian. Even more so since this 'Robin Hood' was incapable of keeping her safe, and had, in fact, allowed her to die.

Even if Marian was no longer his, he couldn't allow her to burn and die.

It was just a nightmare though; nothing would come of it.

Voices drifted down the passage, Arabic voices. Robin had learned to speak Arabic; it had been required of him. He had become quite fluent with it. "He's down here," a voice said. In a few moments two men were standing outside his cell. One looked like a foot soldier, but the other seemed to have higher status, a leader of men.

The richer man looked at Robin and asked, "Are you the English king's companion?"

Robin looked at the man, wondering why he wanted to know about his relationship with Richard. "And if I am?"

"Just answer the question, Englishman, I can make your life very miserable and will if you don't cooperate." As if it wasn't already thanks to that nightmare.

"Then, yes, I am a friend of Richard's." A smile spread on the man's face. It wasn't a pleasant smile either; it seemed more of a half smile, half smirk. As if he knew something, or maybe life had just given him his greatest wish.

--*--

Marian awoke to a new day, freezing. The cold December chill had invaded her room, seeping through the castle walls. In all of her eighteen years she had never thought it could get _this_ cold. She sank deeper into her mattress hoping for a little warmth, but she didn't find any. Marian considered getting out of bed, but shunned the idea because of the cold floor. On the other hand, she would warm up if she started moving. "Oh, come on, it's a floor!" Marian told herself, angry that she should be scared of a cold floor. Only five years ago she thought she could take on the world. What had happened to her?

Tentatively, she put one bare foot on the floor, sucked in her breath, and let a Saxon curse fly as the cold attacked. She stood, muttering to herself about how she hated winter. She looked into her water basin and instantly decided not to wash her face, because the water had iced over. Within five minutes she was dressed and had brushed and weaved her hair into a single braid down her back. Organa had refused to let her cut it even an inch in four, nearly five, years. As a result, her hair had grown down to her waist. Marian could hardly stand it, the first thing she was going to do once she was released from there was have her hair cut. She glanced in the mirror on the wall, and couldn't help noticing how impeccably thin she was. It was a good thin, not unhealthy, but still uncomfortable.

It was that afternoon, while Marian was weaving a blue and gold rug, when Claire, a twelve-year-old servant, told her that she had a visitor. Who she found was a tall man dressed colorful livery, his goatee twitching. "Are you the Lady Marian Fitzwater?" he asked in deep voice.

"Yes sir."

"Then I extend to you an invitation, from milord Robert of Locksley."

Marian took a step back and stared at the man, wondering what he could possibly mean. She knew he meant Robin, but that confused her, since Robin was on crusade. How could he invite her to anything? "Pardon me, if this sounds rude, but isn't Robert in Jerusalem?" she asked, trying desperately hard to keep her voice from trembling.

"Well, milady, he _was_ in Jerusalem, but he returned home two days ago." Marian felt her toes tingle inside her shoes. "And, as I said, he extends a personal invitation to you, for a gathering being held in his honor at Huntington Hall in three days time. He says that he would be grateful if you came. What can I tell him in reply?"

"Tell him that I will attend and that I welcome him home." It was a courteous answer, the bare minimum, but she didn't know what else to say.

"He'll be glad to hear it. Good day, Lady Marian."

--*--

"The green will bring out your eyes beautifully, and leave your hair down tonight, don't bother putting it up," Organa said, handing Marian a green gown with silver trim. Marian reached out and took the gown from the woman. She barely glanced at its color, she was nervous about seeing Robin again. He must have changed during all these years away. What if he had only invited her for social standing? What if he didn't care about her for who she was anymore? What if she made a complete fool of herself and he hated her for it? 'What ifs' filled her mind to its limits, making her oblivious to what was happening in the present.

She changed into the dress without noticing. A silver sash was tied around her waist. "And you must wear this," Organa continued, bringing Marian out of her reverie. Organa handed her the pendant that Robin had given her, its silver freshly polished. The wolf looked just as wild as ever, the emerald eye just as bright. Marian put it on with pleasure.

--*--

"Uncle, what are you doing? Guests will be arriving any minute and you're hanging mistletoe?" Will hadn't changed much in Robin's opinion. He was still just as annoying as ever. Robin re-arranged the little plant's leaves one last time, and stepped down from the chair he had been standing on.

"Yes, Will, I'm hanging mistletoe, and you can use it tonight _if _you do find reason to. Just, don't pester me about it." Robin looked at the plant, and he could feel a smile probing his lips. He would wait until the perfect moment and then he would… He interrupted his own thought, remembering the nightmare and that if it was true then Marian was no longer his.

He refused to believe that, he hadn't come back only to have her stolen away. No, he didn't hold stock in dreams.

**To the hopeless romantics reading this: How am I doing? I'm one of your kind myself, so by my set of rules this is great. I'm unfamiliar with your rulebook though, so lay 'em out!!! You can use that button down there. To all the non-hopeless romantics reading this: How's everything else doing? GUYS: Tell me if I'm getting Robin right!!! It's hard to know if I'm going too far sometimes!**

**Hey, doesn't that 'review' button look snazzy???? I think it does.**


	15. Mistletoe Being Useful

**Hey peoples! Sorry it's been awhile in coming... I had some computer problems. Thank you to Forest Archer, Rawr I'm A Toaster, and shilohfan. AND thank you to cattycat92, brismiss, and Forest Archer for putting this on Story Alert. (It makes me feel nice to know you like it that much!) This is, of course going to contain MAJOR fluff!! Which makes me happy... and I hope it makes you happy! It would make me even more happy if you tell me that you're happy with what makes me happy (this chapter). Read that sentence over twice if you need to. Read, enjoy, review! **

Marian could feel Organa's glare as she accepted a glass of wine from a servant offering it. She sipped it, marveling over its sweet, spicy taste. Organa had come, insisting that Marian would need supervision, but stood a good distance away, for which Marian was thankful. She was standing among a decent crowd of people in Huntington Hall, feeling like a single bee in a hive full of other insects. Everyone stood in their little groups chatting politely and making small talk. It felt the same as all the other social events that Organa had dragged her to.

Gossip flowed around her; she could hear their whispers about her. How a woman should be married by her age. Only unmarried women wore their hair down, and she was. It made her a direct target for their tittering.

Marian had tried to find Robin but didn't have any luck at it. For now, she was taking a break from her vain search. She knew she could have asked, but also that she was looked down upon by many for her unmarried state, along with being known as a reckless woman. If they only knew.

"We saw you from across the hall, you looked lonely." Marian jumped at the sudden arrival of three women, having not expected company. They looked to be about her age give or take a few years. "I'm Lady Cicely. These are my sisters, Harmony and Renee." In Marian's mind she begged them to leave her alone.

"Yes, darling," Harmony stated. "We also wanted to know why on earth your hair is down. It's a disgrace for a married woman to wear it like that."

"I'm not married," she said firmly, hoping to dismiss them back to their corner.

"What, at your age?" They seemed appalled.

"I'm eighteen; it's not such a horrible age to be single." She kept her sentences short and to the point, a tactic that had kept her from other loathsome conversations. Not this time.

"Why, darling, we'll help you look, it shouldn't be that hard," Harmony offered. "You've still got youth and a pretty face."

"Come," Cicely grabbed Marian's elbow. "I insist that you let us introduce you to our cousin. He's single too. We've been trying to find a girl for him all night; he hasn't spent more than five minutes with any of them." She allowed herself to be led through the people, not sure what possessed her. Surely, this was a bad idea. Somewhere in this very room was her fiancé, and yet here she was traipsing after a couple of crazy young women!

"Hold up, Cicely darling," Harmony called from behind. Cicely drew into a halt. "You look so unladylike when you walk that fast. What will people think?"

Cicely wouldn't keep still. She was craning her neck over the throng searching for her cousin. Marian was looking in the opposite direction for Organa, hoping the hag had lost track of her. "Oh, there he is!" Marian was yanked away from her searching, glaring at floor as it moved under her feet. Cicely released her once they had found the cousin. People moved away from them, and she heard an exasperated sigh. She was staring at his boots, wondering what had prompted her to come this far.

"I thought I told you." Marian froze. She knew his voice. "I don't need you to find me a girl. I've got one already." She dared to glance quickly up at his face. Her breath caught in her throat. It was him. The cousin was Robin. She took one step back but could go no further.

She wanted to blend back in with the people, but she couldn't. Her gaze had become riveted on his face. He was clean-shaven, and she liked it that way. His hazel eyes seemed distant, like he wanted to be somewhere else. She noticed how incredibly good-looking he was. No, she shouldn't think like that, _wouldn't_ think like that. Marian noticed a scar on his forehead, one long line starting in the middle and receding into his hairline. He hadn't even glanced at her; he was too busy lecturing his cousins. It was better that way; she could gain her composure before he noticed her.

--*--

Abruptly, Robin turned, about to walk away from his cousins. "Marian," he exclaimed in a surprised voice. His cousins exchanged a puzzled glance. Then Renee smiled and gestured to her sisters, who dutifully followed her. "You could have told me you were right there."

"A good host would have acknowledged me, and waited to lecture until later." Her voice! He had waited to hear it for so long. Robin wanted her to keep talking just so he could drown in it. Drowning in her voice would be the most heavenly thing.

"Etiquette hasn't been on my schedule for a while." Nobody was around to delay them, it was time. If he waited a moment longer someone else would ask him how it felt to be back. He was going to be sick of that question before long. There were other things they'd want to discuss too, of course, but he was tired of it all.

"How is it that you came back?" Marian asked, not sure what else to say.

"I was captured and held for ransom. When the king paid it and I was released, he asked me what I wanted most in the world."

"And you said?" Marian prodded,

"That I wanted to be home," he said matter-of-factly. He took her wine and handed it off to a servant nearby. "I don't think you'll need that. Come on, I've a place where we can talk in private."

"All I seem to do is follow people," she grumbled.

"Would you like to lead then?" He glanced back at her, and fund that she was scowling. She hadn't changed completely. He loved the way she scowled, one glance and it could tear you apart and leave your pieces scattered for the birds.

Once in the side hall, he let his emotions get the best of him, not even trying to curb them. Marian had grown so beautiful over the years. Everything about her stunned him. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair, to caress it. Her personality was so extraordinary it became attractive. He had never known himself to be so completely in awe of something before, but now that was rapidly changing. She was the most extraordinary thing he had ever seen. By far.

"What?" Her question brought him out of thought, and made him realize that he'd been staring.

"Nothing, I was just..." He couldn't think of a good excuse.

"Just trying to figure out what happened to the old me?" There was wistfulness in her voice, and he wondered why.

"Sure." Not really, but if she believed it...

"They've turned me into quite the idiot. I'm like everyone else now, no different." He wanted to disagree; she was _not_ like everyone else. She was still Marian Fitzwater 'that rash repulsive girl'. He had heard that said of her more than once, both before he left and after he got back.

"Speaking of idiots, I apologize for my cousins. Although I'm surprised you followed them." He saw Marian flush. She quelled it quickly.

"They're very insistent young women. I had nothing better to do anyway. It wasn't as if I had any idea you were their cousin. If I had known it would have..." She paused, searching for the right word. She glanced to the ceiling as if the words she needed would be written there. Instead of words though, she saw the mistletoe hanging there. "Oh. Is that a joke?"

"No, but I'm not forcing you into anything."

"Did you plan this? Of course you did." She gave him a bit of a glare, although it didn't seem genuine. "Do you have any idea how many men have tried to woo me?"

As soon as she said it he wanted to know their names so he could give them several good reasons never to try it again. Wait. Was this where that Robin Hood from his nightmare came in? "I haven't been around," he said, hoping his assumption had been wrong.

"Four not counting you and none of them got anything. Do you know why? Because I've told them that I already have a fiancé. And now that man too is trying to charm me. What am I supposed to say to him?" Marian asked, sounding intrigued.

How was he supposed to answer her? She had somehow turned her decision into his. "Knowing you, I think I should leave that up to you. You don't let anyone put words in your mouth, and I'm not going to the first to try it."

"Good answer, exactly what I needed to hear. So go ahead. Kiss me."

He thought he had misheard her at first. She wouldn't say that, would she? It was what he wanted to hear, but it sounded strange coming from her. She took one step toward him, leaving little space between them. Her eyes penetrated into his very soul. She wasn't glaring at him, but searching for something within him. He didn't know what it was, but wanted to give it to her anyway.

For now though....

Robin closed what little distance remained between them, and embraced her. She tilted her head up to meet her mouth with his. The fact that she had been so willing made everything about it so much better. Although he wouldn't have forced her to, no, he'd never force her to do anything she didn't want to. One hand went through her lustrous hair, while the other was busy memorizing her face. Robin was gentle, as if Marian might break with his touch. He was almost afraid that it was all just a dream and he'd wake up and be back under the heat of the desert sun. And each moment held the fear that she might suddenly pull away and smack him, but his thoughts were lost, muddled beneath the immense joy that kept his heart crashing inside.

**Well...? Are you happy now? It takes three happies to make a glad!! So I'd like three people to tell me they're happy, so that I can be glad. Double glad would be even better! If you aren't happy, let me know as well, I'll knock it off the happy points. hehe... I think I know who is understanding my inside joke. **

**PS- To all the lucky ducks who have seen the RH season 3 finale: Don't give ANYTHING away!!!!!!!!! About that or season 3 in general!**


	16. A Few Bumps in the Road

**Thanks go to Forest Archer and Rowan Hood. I'll also thank Rosalie, Mary, and Carrie. I'm glad you guys are all happy. My final tally is two glads!!! YAY!!!!! This one isn't qiute as happy, but still cool. **

**We're still in Robn's head by the way.**

Robin never wanted it to end but they were interrupted by a screeching voice, making them step away from each other.

"Marian! What has come over you? I'm ashamed. I'm terribly sorry, Sir Robert, I never should have left her alone." Who was this woman? Marian seemed annoyed with her, pursing her lips together, and standing as far away from her as possible in the limited space. She had intertwined her fingers with his despite the woman's distaste.

"It's my fault," Robin told her. "I hung the mistletoe in the first place. I apologize, I didn't think anyone would mind." He had been hoping she would take the cue and leave them alone, but she stood right where she was.

"No Robin, you don't have to apologize for anything," Marian interrupted. "I wanted it just as much as you did. Don't... Don't let Organa make you think this is wrong." He noticed that she had not spoken to 'Organa' directly, but had meant for both of them to hear. There must have been a tension between the two.

"Marian, I demand you leave with me at once! I will not tolerate this behavior. I'm sorry, milord, but we must leave early."

"I'll do no such thing," Marian snapped. "The agreement was that until Robin returned I would be your charge. He's back, can't you tell?" As Marian said this she backed up against Robin placing the hand she had captured around her waist, as if to prove her point. Robin didn't know what to do with himself, not expecting anything like this. It was intoxicating. "I'm completely under his care now. If my future husband thinks I should leave, I will, but not because you tell me to."

Organa narrowed her eyes, glaring at both of them. Marian raised her chin and didn't say another word. There was something he recognized; that old defiance of authority. Organa must have sensed she wasn't going to get anywhere, since she turned and left, looking angrier than he had ever seen a human being besides Marian look.

"And that," Marian sighed, relaxing and leaning back against his chest, "is Organa, the woman who ruined my life for five years. She's the sheriff's wife, although I can't understand why she would want to get married to him. Nasty man." Robin had gotten lost in her voice again, and had missed almost half of what she had said. He nodded agreement so it wouldn't be too apparent. "I can't say much for Nottingham Castle either. Cold, hard stone, that's all there is to it. Locksley will be so much nicer." She stepped away from him so she could look him in the eye. "Say something."

Robin started playing with Marian's hair, wishing she were still leaning into him. "I suppose. Have you ever seen it? It's not a very big place. Village or manor."

Marian took his hand out of her hair and dragged him down to a sitting position. They sat across from each other, hands held between. "I don't care, it's better than all that stone." She paused but then asked, "How did you get the scar on your forehead?" Anything but that. He despised how he had gotten that particular scar, completely despised it. Should he tell her the whole story? No. It was too terrible, too... ghastly. He could barely bear to remember, why would she want to know?

"Acre," was all he said.

--*--

Marian didn't understand why he wouldn't tell her. Truth to be told she didn't understand anything that had happened in the last fifteen minutes. The kiss was the most invigorating thing that had ever happened to her. She hadn't felt that _much _since her mother's death, but this time it had left her wanting more. In fact, it felt as if she had never wanted anything until now. Nothing made sense, but this one thing had an explanation, and she would hear it. "Please?" she asked, pleading with her eyes. She never expected him to give in to it.

"Well, after years of laying siege to Acre we finally got into its walls. Every life was taken: man, woman, and child." Robin wouldn't look her in the eye; instead he stared off to the side, his expression full of pain. "There was one woman who had a knife, and was trying desperately to protect her child. She was begging for her son to be left alone, doing anything to keep him from us. I didn't even think about it until afterward, didn't remember how hard she had fought." Marian could see his eyes begin to water, and didn't know what to do for him. "I killed her and that little boy too, without stopping to even think. If you had heard her screaming at me when she came at me… That's how I got this scar; from when she was trying to save her child from me. _Me._ I won't ever be able to forget that. But it wasn't just her; there were so many others, so many that I try not to think about it. I just can't—" he cut off, and Marian got the feeling he couldn't say anymore.

His knuckles were white from clutching her hands so hard. It would have hurt Marian, but she didn't notice. What was she supposed to do? She got closer to him, pressed her lips to the scar for a moment, then wrapped her arms around him, and said, "I'm sorry, Robin. And I don't know what else I can say. I'm just so sorry." However long they stayed like that, Marian didn't know. It felt like the right thing to do, and it _seemed _like she should hold him. He needed somebody, and she was more than willing to be that somebody.

Suddenly Robin pulled away from her, looking like nothing had happened. As if he hadn't completely lost it just a short time ago. She wished she had that much self-control over her emotions. They didn't say anything for a while, until Robin said, "Never ask about the crusades again." Marian nodded, knowing that she didn't plan to. "So," he said in a light voice. "Did Organa wholly ruin you?"

"What do you mean?" Marian asked, glad to be moving onto a safer topic. He gave her an exasperated look. "Oh." She understood now. "I'm not sure. I mean, I don't feel the same way about a lot of things, and I suppose I've matured a little since before you left. I hope there's some of me left. Towards the beginning I managed to keep most of myself in place. Actually I was thrown in the dungeon for three days," she said, sitting up.

Robin looked at her disbelievingly. "What?" Things carried on in a much simpler way after that.

Until the end.

**Hear my evil laugh.... mwah hahaha! Tell me what you think, and thanks for reading!**


	17. Heartbreak

**Well... Thank you to elizabeth marrain and Forest Archer. My deepest apologies to you both... :( **

"Where are they?" Marian heard Cicely cry. "Something must be going on." She glanced at Robin, who must have heard too since he had a bit of a cocky grin on his face.

"Something must have happened, all right." He stood and Marian did the same, absent-mindedly brushing dust off her skirt. She hadn't had such a long conversation in years. She had almost forgotten the kiss, but when she remembered a war of feelings began to battle within her. "I think I've ignored the rest of the guests long enough. But it's my assumption that only my father has actually noticed that I disappeared. Maybe Will."

Did she even _want_ to be in love? No, she didn't. Was it something that she _should_ feel? She wasn't sure. But what had happened to the easy friendship that they had had seemingly a lifetime ago? She wasn't sure what she wanted out of Robin anymore: a friend or a lover. None of it made sense. Her mind was whirling around in dizzying circles, making her want to scream.

"Yes, you're probably right. The rest of them are too busy gossiping to notice." Robin was staring at her again; it was unnerving the way he looked at her. As if...as if he was taking a long needed drink of water, maybe. She wasn't sure how to describe it. A silence thick enough to swallow followed, neither one of them wanting to leave.

Then something in Marian's brain got a hold of itself. She knew that she didn't want to be loved by Robin, and never would want to. But what about all that happened in the last few hours? Didn't any of that count? They had kissed, he had shared a painful memory with and she had held him. Marian's head started to hurt, all of her thoughts clashing together. "I've got to go before..." she trailed off, her excuse left in the air. She turned and started to leave.

"Wait," Robin said. She turned around and Robin's face was so close to hers that it took her by surprise. That look was still in his eyes. "Before you leave, since I don't think we'll see each other for a while, what with everything—" He broke off and kissed her for the second time. It sent Marian back to the bliss she had known earlier, but even bliss as complete as that can be stolen. She fully realized that she didn't want it, not from him, and jumped away, barely aware that she was doing so.

"Please don't," she said her voice ready to give out. She was feeling almost helpless to her emotions, and didn't know how to overcome them except by breaking his heart and breaking her own as well.

"But I love—"

"No!" she screamed, drawing glances from the other guests in the main hall. "Don't even say it, Robin! If I hear you even mutter something like that to me," she hissed, her tone venomous. Marian could feel her eyes pricking at her own words. "I swear on my mother's grave I'll make you wish you were back in Jerusalem." Robin looked beyond hurt, and it pained her to know that it was her fault. "I just don't love you." It was a lie, an appalling lie. She turned and ran away from him, hoping never to see him again. If only to save her heart from breaking agian.

--*--

Robin felt the weight of her words sink in, and it felt like Marian had ripped his heart out with her bare hands and thrown it at his feet. He couldn't breathe for the pain that coursed through him. His emotional pain was so vibrant it felt physical, and he would've cried out _if_ he had been breathing. Marian. Her name repeated itself in his mind, each time crushing his lungs, as if with a hammer. They were on fire for lack of air.

"Uncle, breathe!" he heard Will order, his voice distant. His nephew's fist smashed into Robin's stomach, and finally he gasped air. Will dragged Robin around the corner away from the gaping guests. "What happened? I saw Marian run out of here, and then I find you as pale as a sheet!" Will asked after Robin had gotten his breath back.

Robin didn't want to say, he couldn't repeat what had happened. Will somehow understood that. "Did she reject you, then?" Robin didn't respond. "She did," Will said with certainty. "I can't imagine why she would, though. I mean, I can _see_ that she returns the affection."

"What do you mean?" Robin asked, finding Will's suggestion was stimulating.

"I saw the way she was looking at you before you realized that she was there. It was all over her face." Will sounded so sure of this fact that Robin had to believe him.

"Then why did she… Did I do something wrong?" He was talking to himself more than to Will but his nephew answered anyway.

"Not in one sense. But I think you've confused her. Before you left you were her friend, it was a simple coincidence that you were betrothed, right?"

"I loved her then too."

"At the time, though, she wasn't returning the favor. I'll bet you anything that Marian's just not sure how to deal with you being in love with her and her being in love with you," Will said.

"How would you know?" Robin scoffed.

"I happen to be an expert on the female mind."

"You don't know a thing about the female mind. It's too confusing. The only people who understand it are the girls who posses them. Not you," he said, not willing to give Will credit for anything that momentous.

"Maybe, but I can guess." Now Will was getting annoying, as he had always been.

"Then what do you suggest now, O wise sage?" Robin had meant it as a joke, but Will took him seriously.

"Don't apologize tonight. Wait until the day after tomorrow," Will instructed. "If you were to try tonight it would be, well let's not go there. Women tend to overreact if you approach something the wrong way, they might not speak to you again, ignore you completely, or just storm off. They're unpredictable creatures."

"And yet, you claim to know their minds?"

"Like I said, I guess. And usually I'm right." His know-it-all attitude had returned.

"Will, why don't you go get drunk or do something useful?" Robin asked, ready to be left alone.

"Are you suggesting that getting drunk would make me useful?" If Robin had been in higher spirits he would have thought that Will's comment was funny, but he wasn't. So instead it was irritating.

"No, I'm suggesting that you go away!" Robin's expression was one of aggravation.

Will put up his hands in mock surrender and left.

After a few minutes Robin ventured into the crowd. He made for a shadowed corner, where hopefully nobody would intervene into his thoughts. He leaned into the darkness and surveyed the room. More than half the people were strangers to him, and those that he could put names to faces, he didn't want to mingle with. The only person he wanted to spend time with was infuriated with him. And there she was, standing near the door that led outside; he watched her glance around then slip out. He wondered why and decided to find out.

Robin used a back door, walked around to the front entrance, stopping at the corner beside the door, so she couldn't see him, but he could hear her pacing back and forth muttering to herself. She sounded distressed and angry. Then she stopped. Robin looked around the corner, and he saw her reach up to her neck and unclasp her pendant. She looked at it for a moment, hesitating. Her fingers lightly traced the wolf, and he saw an unsure look in her eye. Suddenly, she threw to the ground and stepped away. She ran to the entrance, stopped, wiped at her eyes and stepped inside.

Robin came out of his hiding place and stooped to retrieve Marian's pendant. The wolf's emerald eye glinted in the moonlight. Fresh dirt fell away as he polished the silver with his thumb, taking it with him as he retreated back indoors, knowing that he had to get over her, but also that he never would. What was the use of trying? He watched Marian from a distance for the rest of the night, his whole being silently screaming in pain.

**Um, yeah... THAT'S what the evil laugh was about... I'll have you know that I don't like it one bit either! It's horrible... I know. I cried when I wrote it, and was a mess for the rest of the night. So...? Are you unhappy? Happy? (I doubt the last one) Furious with me? **

**Let me know by using the review button right down there. Please???**

**By the way, don't worry; I've been hit over this several times already!**

**Oops! Yeah I noticed that huge typo at the end there, but it's fixed now. Sorry!! I don't know how that happened...**


	18. Apologies

**Hi agian. If you haven't noticed I have another Robin Hood story up now so go check out (once you're done here) It's modernized Robin Hood story, called Bring It On. My brother likes it, and I do to. **

**Thank you to Forest Archer, Rawr I'm A Toaster, and elizabeth marrain. ****For those of you that wanted happier content, I'm sorry. It's hopeful at least! And thanks to Rosalie who called the last three chapters 'tragically beautiful'. I hope you like this one too, Rosalie.**

When Marian returned to Nottingham Castle and was back in her room, she could feel despair weighing down on her. Why did she have to lose her one true friend? Again. Sure, he was home, but not as her friend. What had she expected? Who had she thought he was going to come back as, a sixteen year old? What a fool she'd been, whatever she'd thought.

But that kiss. She could still taste it. It had been like a perfect spring day, a slight breeze, a loaf of bread fresh out of the oven, the warm sun, a refreshing rain, everything perfect in life wrapped up in a few moments. And when he had been touching her face… Marian had felt… _beautiful. _She had never wanted to feel beautiful, and hardly ever thought about it. But Robin had somehow made her feel beautiful without even saying anything.

Robin's kiss and touch had sent shivers down her spine, making her feel happier than she had ever felt. Somehow though, she hadn't wanted to receive that kind of happiness from him. She had enjoyed every second, but taking a step back and realizing who had given it to her it instantly had felt wrong. All wrong. Robin was supposed to be her friend; he wasn't supposed to be... that.

She began to undress, to get out of the ridiculous gown. She had looked exactly like all those pitifully shallow, dull girls. Shwe _had_ been looking, and acting like them for the last five years. But no longer, she decided. Tomorrow she would leave this huge prison. Automatically she reached to take off her pendant; only then did she realize and remember what she had done. She wished she hadn't, wished it was still around her neck, with its familiar weight tugging gently at her throat.

Why? Why was it Robin she had to fall in love with? And why had she run away from it? Well, that answer was easy; because it _had been_ Robin. But why hadn't she stayed and enjoyed it? She knew that she should have, and wished she had.

Marian crawled beneath the covers of her bed, and stared up at the ceiling. Heartbreak swallowed her whole, causing her to start crying. Every hurtful thing she had said to Robin came back, as if to haunt her. The look on his face spun before her eyes, making the tears come faster than before. "I'm sorry Robin," she sobbed, "I'm so sorry." But he wasn't there to hear her apology. "I do love you," she whispered, although he wouldn't hear that either.

Somehow, she fell asleep, the tears still coming, but even her dreams replayed for her what she had done to Robin and to herself. When she awoke the next morning and looked in the mirror she saw that that her hair was in a state of horror from the previous night's crying. Marian took up a comb and began to yank out the snarls, knowing it would take at least an hour to finish the chore.

Marian thought about Robin as she pulled the comb through all of her tangles. She hated how she felt about him, missed him as a friend, and didn't want him as lover. How could she be around him anymore? The answer was simple: she couldn't. Her throat closed at the thought but she took no notice of it, since she knew that she had no choice. She _had _to ignore him; at least until the betrothal bond was fulfilled and they were married. Then he would be happy, and she would be free to love him without worrying herself about losing a friend, since it would have happened anyway.

There! It made sense now, in a twisted way, anyway.

Keeping with her decision, Marian ignored him completely and thoroughly. Not a thought of him crossed her mind when she told Organa she was going home, not while she was packing, not when she was unpacking at her own manor. Marian forgot about him, until the following afternoon, when he came knocking on her door.

Marian heard the knocking on the front door, and hurried to open it. When she did and saw who was on the other side she felt an immediate longing to run into his arms. Emotions flooded over her, only increasing her need of him. She couldn't do it; she slammed the door shut before he even opened his mouth. She had meant to simply close it, but had known that if she tried to do it that way, she wouldn't have followed through, and lost her resolve.

For hours she let him stand there, while she organized the kitchen to the way she wanted it, the first step she took in running her own household. She finished her task without any difficulty, but it didn't give her any satisfaction. At least not the kind of satisfaction she wanted.

A question found its way inside her mind: was he still out on her doorstep? Marian hoped that he was, and hoped that he wasn't. She went upstairs and into her mother's room; the window there had a view over the road and front door. She eased the wooden shutter open and peeked out. She knew it! He was still there, standing in the freezing wind. A slight smile crept into her face, and she replaced it with a scowl.

Robin looked up and saw her. "I came to apologize for the other night," he called.

She banged the shutter closed, muttering to herself how stubbornness should be a mortal sin. The old bed creaked when she sat down on it. She had to go down there and talk to him. She was his fiancée, and they would be miserable together if she didn't forgive him. She did love him, she knew that with clarity, but she also knew that she didn't want to.

--*--

Robin knew it was time to leave; Marian wasn't going forgive him anything today. Of course, the door opened then and Marian was there, gritting her teeth and pursing her lips. "Come in, and state your apology." Her voice was cold and harsh, much like the weather. He stepped inside, wondering how such a miracle as Marian changing her mind could occur. She never _used_ to change her mind. Still, he was glad for the invitation inside, however forced it was. She closed the door, gently this time. That was a surprise.

"Marian, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have rushed things the way I did, I was wrong. I'm not sure how to say this without you getting angry again, but I'll never speak of love again, even if I want to. I shouldn't have hung the mistletoe in the first place. Will you forgive me?" She looked like she wanted to, and at the same time was ready to run the other way. He had recited everything Will had told him to say, and it was supposed to work. He tried composing something of his own. "Marian, listen—"

"I've already forgiven you, Robin… I just… I'm not…" She sighed. "I feel like I don't know you anymore, and that terrifies me. Being angry with you seems to be my only remedy so don't try and stop me."

"All right, I won't," Robin promised, and then added, "But Marian, you do realize that we have to get married?" He hadn't wanted to bring it up, but knew he had to.

"I know," she responded frostily. "Just give me some time. I should be ready by the summer."

"Until then, I won't bother you." Robin didn't want to say that, and didn't want to wait until the summer; it seemed an unearthly amount of time to go without seeing her. He needed her more than he'd ever needed anything before and wanted to know everything that she was feeling, even if it was dislike for him. It was hard though, because some small part of her character had been turned slightly off balance, and because of that one difference everything else about her was confusing. He couldn't read her as well, which made everything difficult. He didn't know her at all it seemed, and he wanted to know everything about her, but she wouldn't let him. It hurt.

**So yeah, there it is. Not happy, kinda hopeful. I'm not sure what to call it so could you tell what you think it is? The review button is completely free for use!!**


	19. Birthday Present

**Slight delay, I know. Sorry, I was... ah, forget the excuse! I'll let it hang there unsaid. Oh! I forgot to tell you guys that I have a new t-shirt... It's says "We Are Robin Hood" on it. And the 'o' in Robin's name has that thingy carved on their dogtags, you know the drawn bow? I am, of course, referring to the BBC show that I'm in love with. **

**Never mind, read, review, enjoy! aka RRE**

After that awkward encounter, Marian went back to ignoring him. She had her hair cut to a shorter length (a few inches past her shoulder blades) and started running her household. Everything about her life remained dull and uneventful as time continued to move at its own pace, not allowing anyone to interfere. Although her life was dull, it was busier than she had imagined, and yet she felt empty; the color seemed to have been taken out of the painting. Maybe Organa had won in the end; maybe she had become just another face in the crowd, with nothing spectacular about her at all.

Spring arrived bringing with it the splendor of green. The change of seasons brought relief to her, if only because the surroundings were shifting from dim to bright, although they still seemed void of true beauty. May Day came and children started out at dawn to go maying; picking flowers and weaving chains for themselves. Marian had never participated, never raced out her front door to go into the fields to join the other children; she and Robin had been too busy causing trouble in Sherwood. The thought came uncalled, and Marian shrank from it, building the wall between her and Robin ever stronger.

Her twentieth birthday, May 28th, came upon her and she could've cared less, but it was that evening that a rude pounding sounded throughout her manor. She had barely opened the door when de Lacy burst through. He glared at her, "Where is he? I know he's here!"

"Pardon? I haven't a clue what you're going on about. And why are you here? This is not—"

"Don't play the idiot with me, woman!" the sheriff accused, lunging toward her, forcing her to back against the wall. De Lacy brought his face so close to hers in his rage that she could smell his foul breath. Marian tried not to breathe as he asked, "Where is Robert of Locksley? You know as well as I do that he was outlawed this morning! Now tell me," he hissed the last few words. Marian was astounded; what did the sheriff mean? Robin, outlawed? She wouldn't believe this maniac. Besides, what could Robin have possibly done to become a hunted man?

The sheriff continued to rage, "He killed a man in cold blood! It was reported this morning, my cousin, a forester, was in Sherwood and your Robert killed him! You will tell me where he is."

"He's not here; I haven't spoken with him for months." She had kept the truth from him. She knew_ exactly _where Robin was. There was no other plausible place for him to be. "There's your answer, now get out. You have no more reason to be here. Go on!"

"No. Men! Search the manor! Leave nothing as it was before!" As soon as the order was given, guards began charging through her home, ruining whatever got in their way. They kicked doors open, breaking her belongings as they saw fit, and leaving everything in shambles.

"Sheriff, you can't do this!" Marian shrieked, tears of anger forming in her eyes. "Make them stop!" But the sheriff had joined in, with a look of fury on his face. "No!" Marian shouted, running at the men. "Get out! All of you!"

She heard the kitchen hands scream and the crashing of dishware as it broke on the floor. She dashed in and saw the disaster for herself. Broken pottery was scattered on the floor, the soup that had been simmering spilled over, and the fire it had heating over put out. The women who had been working were cowering in the one vacant corner, but Marian couldn't bring herself to join them. Frantic, she attacked one of the men, dragging him away. "Can't you see that he isn't here? Leave!" A Saxon curse escaped, and the man gave her a Norman one in response, pushing her violently away.

Marian told the women to leave out the kitchen door and to come back once the guards and the sheriff had left. They obeyed her willingly, hurrying away. Marian stood in the hall watching as everything was destroyed, her tears of anger ceasing. She no longer fought them, knowing it was useless. In time they realized that she wasn't harboring any outlaws, and left her with the disorder they had caused. She didn't say a word when the sheriff sneered on his way out, "Pity that there was nothing to find." It didn't matter; there was something much more important on her mind.

One of the kitchen maids came up behind her, having returned from outside. "What do you want us to do, milady? Where should we start?"

"Do we have any fabric?" Marian asked, not pausing to think.

The maid looked thrown off, and with good reason. "What kind are you looking for?"

"Anything light, but warm, preferably something dark. Bring me as much as you can find, and tell the others to come here, that there's no need to clean just yet." The maid hesitated, but then nodded and scurried off. That old feeling of adventure filled Marian as her mind slowly grasped what she was about to do. Shortly, the maid returned carrying piles of folded olive green and brown fabric. The maid held it while Marian addressed the others who had gathered, telling them the bare minimum; that she would to a relative's until everything was sorted out, while they would stay and put things back into order here. Marian took the fabric from the girl and went to start her insane project, which would eventually lead to carrying out her insane idea which, in the end, would lead to an insane life.

By the next morning she had completed a full suit of men's clothing, and she had found some of her father's boots and would wear them. They were a bit too big, but they would have to do. None of the kitchen hands were there so she scoured in the kitchen for awhile and came up with two sacks. One she filled with food, one with other odds and ends that she might need. She got dressed easily, tucked her dagger in her belt, and said a last good-bye to Fitzwater Manor.

During the hike that followed her mind began to question whether what she was doing was wise. What had caused her to follow this irrational notion? Why should she go to Sherwood, to find someone whom she was trying to avoid? One reason was that she was sick of the life she had been leading. Other than that she had no clue why she was doing what she was doing. It was hard to believe that Robin would kill a man. From what he had told her when she had asked about his scar, it was the last thing he ever wanted to do. It didn't make sense. There! That was another reason; she wanted to find out if it was true, and if it was, why. Another reason was that she couldn't leave a friend like that, alone and with the world against him. Why not make it two against the world?

Marian would make him understand that he had to leave it at being friends, even though he loved her. She knew that it wouldn't exactly be a treat bringing the subject to the surface at all, but what choice did she have? LIfe had dealt her a foul hand, it seemed, at least for the past few years. Hopefully, what she was doing now would change things.

Sherwood was a sight to behold, being in its depths once more was like finding herself again. Finding what had been missing. Well, almost. She ran her fingertips down the bark of a small oak; the texture under her fingers intricate.

The life of the forest seemed to open up to her, embrace her, and hold her close. It seemed to give her life back to her. She dropped the sacks and lay down on the forest floor, staring up at the treetops, since the sky wasn't visible through the dense trees. The sun's warmth spouting through the leaves put her sleep before long. It was much needed sleep too; Marian had been up most of the night hastily stitching away, preparing, and planning. A stiff breeze awoke her later, during the afternoon. Yawning, she collected her things and continued on her way.

The smell of venison grabbed her; she followed her nose until she reached its source. A man sat before a small fire with part of a leg of roast venison clenched in his hand. She left her bags behind a wide tree, and approached the stranger. "Afternoon, sir," she called.

He grunted in reply.

"Are you a forester?"

Again he grunted. She took that as a yes. He glared at her over his meal, letting her know that he didn't want her there. Marian sat down across from him anyway, and looked him in the eye. "Have you heard of the crusader who was outlawed yesterday?"

This time the man responded in words. "Chased him myself, then I told the sheriff. Someone else already had though."

"Good, I'm glad you know de Lacy. You see I have another outlaw for you to report." She waited for a response, and after getting a surprised look, stood up. Reaching for her dagger, she walked around his fire and behind him. She drew the blade, and held it against the poor man's neck. "Make a move and I'll cut your throat." She watched as his grip tightened on his meat. He had a serious obsession with food; it was as if he was gripping onto it for life. "I want you to give the dear sheriff a reason for outlawing me, make one up will you? No, tell him that I shot the deer you're eating. As for my name, it's Marian Fitzwater, daughter of the late Sir Collin Fitzwater, that should be enough. And believe me, I can shoot, de Lacy will testify to that, so if you don't do as you've been told, you'll find an arrow in your heart. Are we clear?" The man nodded stiffly, to avoid the dagger's edge. "Then you may go." She released him, allowing him to surrender the meat to the ground and stumble off. "Might as well," she told herself, and she finished off the venison, avoiding the piece he had been working on.

After that she didn't waste time getting to her —their— oak, The Great Oak. The name they had given it still stuck, although it seemed more immature now. She ran most of way, until she came within about one hundred paces of it. She stopped there, for the first time considering what she had done to herself. Willingly, she had stepped into a life of nothing. She would be without protection of the law, in fact, within the hour the law would be against her. Anyone could take her life, and get paid to do so. She hadn't thought her plan through, which she now regretted. No, she didn't regret, she was happy that she had done it. Now nobody could tell her who she was supposed to be, she was free. Hadn't she always wanted this? It had been her goal years ago, hadn't it? But, now with the product sitting in her hand, she didn't know what to do with it, whether to keep it or get rid of it. How she thought she could walk out of it she didn't know.

Casually, she leaned on a tree on the outer rim of the glade. The oak had grown since her last visit, which was over five years ago. It still felt welcoming though, but that, however, only lasted until an arrow sped toward her. Her braid was hanging over her shoulder from the run, and that was where it struck. Two inches above her shoulder, in the braid that was now pinned into the tree behind her. She hadn't screamed; the sight of an arrow flying at her had been shocking enough to steal her breath.

She tugged the shaft out of her hair and the tree behind it. "Robin, are you _trying_ to _kill_ me? If you were only a few inches closer, you would have succeeded! Get over here and explain yourself!" Because of the waning light, she hadn't been able to sight him yet. She could only hope it had actually been him who had shot.

"Marian? What are you doing here? You'd have to be deranged to come here... now." She saw him then, standing in the shadow of the oak. She couldn't help congratulating herself. She had known he would be here. Where else would he be?

"I don't think I'm the one who's deranged." They stayed where they were, keeping the space between them due to the awkwardness of the situation. Being back where they had started after ignoring each other for so long couldn't have brought anything else other then awkwardness. "That welcome was derangement. You should _at least_ take a second look before killing someone. Do you know that the man that you did away with was the sheriff's cousin? What were you thinking? He's going to hate you for all eternity, you idiot." She re-gathered what she had brought with her and put them into the hollow in the oak. "Don't try to make me leave, because I won't go. You know I can be stubborn when I want to."

"No. You're not staying; you can't just put yourself in exile. I won't let you," Robin stated.

"Too late for that," she said, laughing to herself.

"What have you done?" Robin asked, giving her a cautious look.

"I threatened a man with my dagger, told him my name and sent him off to tell the _scïrgerefa_. I'm sure the sheriff has received the news by now. He's perhaps outlawed me already." She glanced up at him, a look of pride on her face. He seemed to be in total shock. "It can't be undone," she confirmed.

"Please tell me you didn't really do that," Robin begged.

"Robin, listen to me for just this once. I may not love you the way you want me to, but I still do. If you thought for one minute that I was going to abandon you after you got yourself outlawed, you were more than simply mistaken. I wasn't about to let you live in Sherwood without me; I'd miss all the fun," she ended lightly.

**Okay there it is. You might wonder what _scirgerefa _means. It's the Saxon word for 'sheriff'. I'm sorry if that confused you.**

**Sooo.... Care to tell me what you think of Marian's reaction to Robin's outlawry? Too much, maybe? Or was it rational... for her? Let me know!!!! **


	20. Here and Gone

**Well, then, here I am. I'm sorry this took awhile... I have many good excuses but I'm not going to clutter up space with them. Thank to my reviewers! As follows: Jessie D, elizabeth marrain, Rawr I'm A Toaster, and BirdGirlMTU **

**Read, Review and Enjoy!! (RRE)**

Robin was confused to the point of being shocked. It had seemed that Marian had been infuriated with him, but here she was clearing ground for a fire, claiming that it might get chilly and ordering him to find some dry wood. She shouldn't have been there at all. Why had she outlawed herself? She had answered this question already, but her answer had only further confused him. He gave up trying to figure Marian out, deciding it was a useless pursuit. He would concentrate on the fact that she had cared enough to come there with him.

That night, under the canopy of trees, with a small fire sending wisps of smoke into the darkness, Marian presented him with an idea. "What if we formed a village here in Sherwood?"

"What?"

"While I was in Nottingham Castle I noticed things. There's injustice all over the place, and we could provide an escape from it. Every man who wanted to could bring his trade and family here and make a home for himself. In time we would have everything we'd ever need, and not just us but the families too. If it got to the point that we needed more space we could scout out more sites and there could be a few different camps. It would be perfect."

"A village here in Sherwood? They'd all have to be made outlaws, Marian. What man would that for his family?" Robin knew for a fact that if _he _had a family of his own he wouldn't want that life for them, which was one reason why he hadn't wanted Marian stuck here. He wondered where her idea had even come from. Did she actually mean it?

"I think that there are people who would rather be outlaws than be forced to live under such harsh laws," she responded. "So…?"

"No."

"What do you mean, 'no'? It's a wonderful idea."

"We're not doing it. I don't think anyone would want this for themselves." Robin snapped.

"I did," Marian said. "I wanted to run away from life's problems…unfortunately I didn't leave one of them behind." She paused for a moment. "I'm breaking our engagement."

Robin hadn't expected it to stay in place anyway, but that she had called it a 'problem' didn't help. "I knew you would. But you have to realize that by breaking it you won't stop my loving you. I always will." He was glad that he had been able to say that so calmly, but then he had known since yesterday that he wouldn't be getting married.

"Could you try and not make it obvious?" Marian asked. "It would make things easier."

"I can try." 'Try' was a good way to put it, knowing that it would be more than a bit difficult. Even now, it was more than mere struggle not to reach out and tuck her stray hair blowing in the wind after escaping her braid. He was more than aware now that one kiss wouldn't be enough. He needed her to the point of obsession, even if she didn't share the same feelings. It couldn't possibly be healthy, but what could he do about it? Nothing; she was out of his reach now, and was sure to stay there. At least she was with him, however difficult it was for him.

He didn't breathe one word after that. The uncanny silence continued until what once was a fire turned to red embers; submitting itself to be a shadow of its former glory.

--*--

That night sleeping wasn't a problem for Marian, or so it seemed to Robin as he watched her from his side of the now gray coals. She didn't know what an angel she was; and now he couldn't tell her. He couldn't tell her that she had been the one to give him back the will to live, and the motivation to come home.

Now, thanks to his outlawry Marian was all he had left in the world. Locksley was no longer his, he had no other friends, his family was no longer his family, his life was not protected by the law. Everything was lost except Marian.

Fate had put the sheriff's cousin in his path yesterday. He didn't want to remember those few minutes of his life; those moments of rage had cost him everything. It had been a warm day, beautiful, with gentle rays spewing from the sun. He had been on his way to Fitzwater Manor, because he hadn't forgotten Marian's birthday. His mother had told him that he should go see her, and give her something for the occasion. He hadn't bought anything; the last present he'd given had been thrown to the ground. Although, he had taken to carrying it with him wherever he went, stowed away in the pouch at his belt.

He had his sword on his hip, just for the sake of the familiar weight. Since his horse was being unruly, and was dangerous to anyone on foot who was on the road he had decided to cut through Sherwood; it would be shorter and save time and lives. He didn't get very far there either, as a man stopped him. The other's mount was a chestnut color, dull compared to Robin's black. "Where do you think you're going, stranger?" The Norman French the other man used sounded genuine and pure, but Robin thought it was an ugly language.

"To see a friend," Robin said, deliberately replying in Saxon. "Surely, you wouldn't grudge someone such a simple pleasure."

"You don't have to use that beastly language, there's no need. I can't understand a word you're saying." Few Normans ever took the time to learn Saxon. They didn't deem it worthy of their energy. Norman overlords could never understand their people as a result of this ignorance.

Robin repeated what he had said before in Norman French, although his Saxon accent could be heard clearly. Although Robin was proud of this fact, the Norman grimaced at it.

"There, now we can understand each other. Somewhat anyway." The Norman moved his horse closer, and Robin's own horse fidgeted, nervously. Robin backed it up a few steps to calm it. "A fine mount with high spirits. I like that in my beasts. Would you sell him?"

"No," he said bluntly.

"Don't be rude to me, Saxon. I want your horse, he's a beautiful creature."

"Exactly why I'm not going to sell him to you. You don't deserve him." The rudeness of it gave Robin a sense of gratification.

The Norman's eyes narrowed. "What is your name, Saxon? I demand you tell me. After insulting me you owe me that at least."

"Robin of Locksley. My horse will remain my own and I will continue on my way. _You _will continue to a be a Norman pig." With Robin rode on, not bothering to look back.

From behind him he heard the Norman scream: "Saxon scum!" Robin turned his horse sharply around, anger boiling inside. The Norman made his move; he drew back his arm and heaved a throwing knife. The blade found its way through the creature's right ear, and into its skull. Before the horse could react Robin leaped from its back. It gave a shrill scream, pranced a few steps, and fell to the ground. After a few writhing jerks it was still. "Since you wouldn't sell it, I've taken its life. I hope you've learned your lesson."

Robin was outraged, he drew his sword. "It's my turn to teach you then!"

That was when he had killed him. "Murderer," had been the word the man had spoken with his dying breath. Another man had appeared then, his bloodshot eyes taking in the scene. He looked like he was in his thirties.

"The king's favorite, an outlaw," the strange man rasped.

It had dawned on Robin then, what he had just done. And for what? Nothing. He ran. The man with the bloodshot eyes could be heard laughing behind him. Robin had never run that far, that fast. He didn't know where he was going, and it didn't matter, as long as he could keep himself away from the world. He didn't stop until he tripped over a stone and fell. Nothing looked familiar until he saw an oddly shaped boulder, covered in moss. The rock had two humps on its top, and it sat beside a ribbon of water that was no more than a trickle. He knew where he was, and where to go next.

He followed the stream north, until it disappeared into a cave. He stopped just outside the mouth when he heard snoring. Robin found the sleeping man with his head lolled against an elm. Beside the poacher were a bow and three arrows. He was an outlaw now, Robin reminded himself, so it didn't matter. He took them for himself. Hoping wolves or a bear weren't inside, he continued through the cave, which he knew would come out above the clearing where he now sat, staring at whitened coals.

A sharp, icy wind blew, and he shuddered. He wondered if Marian was cold. Glancing up he saw that she was curled beneath her blanket and shivering. Abandoning his own, he got up and went into the hollow of the tree. Inside the wind was completely blocked. He had been going to get another blanket for her, but now he had a different idea.

Gently, he shook her awake. "What is it?" Marian asked groggily, clutching at her blanket.

"Come on, you can sleep inside the hollow." Even with what few supplies there were, and the leftover firewood, there was still room for one person to sleep inside the tree. Marian got up walked the few steps inside, collapsed, and was instantly asleep.

Robin never did get to sleep. He did lean against the tree and doze during the early hours of the morning. When he did shake himself awake, the sun was visible through the density of Sherwood. He glanced into the oak to see if Marian was still asleep, but she wasn't there. He peered up into the tree's many limbs, and again he couldn't find her. He hoped she was within shouting distance as he called her name. There was no answer. He tried again in vain. This was just like her; to decide for herself what she would do.

**So then....? *with flourish of cloak and British accent* "Review if you would kind sir/lady!" heehee! **

**Oh and I had an idea for another story; Robin Hood's Daughter. Alena (Robin's daughter) is thrown through time to modern day Florida at age eight. (This is in the past, of course. The story happens while she's sixteen) She's attempting to get back to her own time and home in Sherwood. I think it's cool and I hope you will too. However I'd like to stress that you should tell me whether or not you'd read it in your review!!!! *with puppy-dog eyes* please?**


	21. Lover's Spat

**OK, you wonderful readers, here is yet another chapter. This marks the one-third mark just about. Maybe halfway. I'm obviously not sue yet. Cuz after Allan and Ellen get married _that event _happens and then everthing changes. Oops, i'm giving stuff away... sorry. Thanks to: supersport (you're awesome), shilohfan, MTU Birdgirl, Jessie D, and elizabeth marrain. I'm sorry if I forgot to mention you... I can't get to my reviews page for some reason. Meh. (hehe, I've been around K.S. too much) Read, review, enjoy!!!**

Marian stopped on the edge of the forest, looking nervously into the open space. She knew her feminine features were more prominent than when she was fourteen, so she had borrowed Robin's hooded cloak. She still didn't understand why he'd taken it off, since it had been so cold last night. She made sure the hood was as low over her face as possible before she left the protective shadow of the forest. It wasn't a long walk back from Sherwood to Fitzwater Manor, she, of all people would know that.

Marian sneaked around, past the kitchens. As she passed she heard the cook's five year-old-daughter, Anna, say to her mother, "Mama, why did Lady Marian leave us?"

"Because she has a wild spirit and no sense, that's why." If only it were that simple! How she wished it was. "She'd have done well to stay here and get married, like her father wanted. But maybe it's better that's she's gone."

"Why?" the innocent voice asked.

"It means that the rest of us won't have to try and restrain her. No more questions. You have work to do. Could you fetch..."

Marian didn't eavesdrop further; she also had work to do. She eased open the stable door and was greeted by the calico and gray cats that had made their home with the horses. As for the horses themselves, there weren't more than two beasts left, and the only reason they were still there was for what was going to be part her dowry, but that was no more. She wondered if she should even bother with saddles. She didn't, she just took bridles and reigns. All other tack she left behind. She hadn't ever been skilled at bareback riding, but she didn't want to burden the horses with any more weight than necessary if they ever needed to move faster than usual.

She led the two creatures out into the yard, hoping they wouldn't make too much noise and give her away. Thankfully, they didn't, but as she went past the chicken coop, Anna came out with a basket of eggs. The girl dropped her basket and backed away, fear etching her face. "Mama," she whispered. "Help."

Holding the horses with one hand Marian pulled the hood away from her face, praying the chance she was taking wasn't going to go against her. "Oh, it's you!" Anna cried.

"Yes, it is, but please don't tell your mother until I'm gone. I don't want to get caught, all right?"

"I won't tell." She giggled at the prospect of keeping a secret from her mother. Marian lowered her hood again, and kept moving, smiling at Anna as she passed.

She didn't feel safe again until she was back in the depths of the forest. She hadn't gotten very far when she heard something; it was no more than a faint rustling. So much for feeling safe. "I hear you! Come out and show yourself before I come in after you! If you mean no harm than neither do I. If it's the other way around, then you're in trouble." She had only her dagger, and she drew it. She was sure that she looked pathetic, with just one little dagger. She surely _felt_ like an idiot, so it must look that way.

"I wouldn't hurt a woman, even if she is highly confused." She must've given herself away by using her voice. A teenage boy emerged from the shadows; he looked naive and a little wary of the 'confused' woman who stood before him. He had longish dark blond hair and his eyes were a cross between hazel and gray. He definitely looked Saxon. "Give me one good reason why I should trust you," the boy demanded.

"First I want to know your name and business in Sherwood." Marian wasn't going to take chances with this boy, no matter how innocent he looked.

"Much, the miller's son, and I've been running and hiding all morning because I whacked a Norman after he tried to take flour without paying for it. And you can go ahead and kill me for the reward because I don't have anywhere to go anyway."

"Yes, you do," Marian contradicted him. "Come with me, I'm in the same position as you right now, only I've got somewhere to go. Make your choice." She continued on, leaving him to stay where he was or follow. Her hood was starting to make her hot, so she took it off, letting it fall behind her.

"Hey, wait up! I'm coming!" Marian could hear him running, trying to catch up with her. When he did she threw him the reigns of one of the mares, so she wouldn't have to lead both. He didn't complain. "Come to think of it you don't look one bit Saxon. Why should I follow you, Norman? How do I know you're not leading me to my death?"

"I'm not Norman or Saxon. I'm both. And I'm not leading you to death, just a camp. I'm sure Robin won't mind." Marian hoped he wouldn't mind, anyway.

"Hold on a second, I know who you are! You're that half-breed woman who followed her lover into outlawry yesterday." She tried to correct him, but he wouldn't let her. "And your lover was outlawed because he killed an earl! And your name is Mary. See? I know it all."

"First of all, we're not lovers." That was a lie more or less. "Second, Robin didn't kill an earl; he killed the sheriff's cousin. Third, Robin is the Earl of Huntington's youngest son, that's where the earl thing came from. My name is Marian, not Mary. Oh, and don't call me a half-breed again, or you'll learn the hard way."

"They were just rumors; I don't even remember where I heard them. But I do know that Robin is dangerous. I think we should be careful."  
"Listen, Robin isn't dangerous," Marian said defensively. "Just overly stupid when it comes to trying to be brave, all men are like that."

"Hey!" Much tried to defend himself.

"I'm not the one who socked a Norman! Anyway, I've known him since I was eight, he wouldn't hurt me or you, and he's only dangerous when he has to be. I've never even seen him like that, so you don't have to worry. Besides, he's depressed and heartbroken right now anyway." She hadn't meant to say that, she had been speaking her thoughts.

"Why is he heartbroken?" Much inquired.

Marian had to think what she was going to say in response. "He's an outlaw, so he can't be with his real lover." It was as close to the truth as she dared to go. She just hoped Robin wouldn't mention what had really happened. The rest of the trip was quiet and seemed solemn, since Much had finally shut up. It was late afternoon when they neared the clearing. "Don't shoot me this time Robin!" Marian called.

"I thought he wasn't dangerous," Much muttered. Marian ignored him.

When they entered into the camp, it was empty. "Robin?" There was no answer. "Guess he's searching for me," she told Much. "Could you tether the horses? I'm going to go look for him. If you have to hide climb the tree or hide in the hollow. Climbing the tree would be better. Only use the hollow if you don't have time."

"Why can't I come with you?"

"I know where he'd go and you don't. Stay here." Marian left in search of someone who might be searching for her. The irony seemed hysterical to her. She was heading toward the overlook spot that they had discovered years ago. It had been one of their favorite spots; you could see for quite a ways once you were there. You couldn't see into the clearing though, the Oak's spread of branches blocked off sight of the ground. After a while the track started going steeply uphill, making it hard to keep going. As she neared the overlook, Marian glimpsed him. A desperate longing shot through her, but she brushed it away. She loved and hated feeling that way. After one more curve she would be there. Robin wasn't going to be happy with her, that much she knew.

"I'm back," Marian said after she went around the last bend where she stopped to give him some space.

"Where were you?" he asked without turning around. His voice sounded calm, like it did when he was anything but.

"Stealing horses. I figured that if I was going to be an outlaw I was going to at least act like one. Don't worry about to whom the beasts belonged either, they were mine. I hope you don't mind but I borrowed your cloak." Marian fingered the material as she said this, fidgeting.

Robin turned around to face her. "This isn't a game, Marian, don't treat it like one. Next time you go on an adventure, at least tell me. I spent the entire morning looking for you, ended up here and haven't moved since."

"Were you so worried about me that you forgot to arm yourself before you started searching?" She gestured. She had noticed during the short lecture he gave her. She didn't mind that he had given her one, since it proved that he wasn't so far into his depression. She wished he'd just snap out of it, and return back to his normal self. Marian wasn't even sure what that was anymore. "It's not wise."

"Of course it's not," he snapped. "But neither were some of the things you did."

"I never said that breaking off our betrothal was wise. It's just what was right." Then she realized that hadn't been what he had meant. She started back down the hillside. "What's right and what's wise are two different things," she called over her shoulder.

"What's that supposed to mean? That I'm not aloud to love you? Because I do. Nothing you say can change that. And I have to say it. I love you. For longest time I have, since I was thirteen and a half. I remember it quite well. Why—"

"Can't you drop it?" Marian asked, her voice rising, as she whirled to face him.

"Don't you get it? I _can't _stop loving you! I wish I could, because it would make my life a whole lot easier!" It had morphed into a heated argument, both of them yelling at the other.

"_Your_ life? What about mine? I followed you here hoping that you'd understand! I was wrong, wasn't I?" Didn't he comprehend anything?

"I do understand! You've made it all very clear! You can't love me because you can't let go of our old friendship, isn't that the way it is?" He had it right on. "The problem is, Marian, you don't understand me! The way I feel about you has grown as big as our oak, and you can't uproot it however hard you try! You can hack away at it with an ax, and you can't cut it down! Burning it won't work because there are half a dozen acorns that will replant themselves and grow again. If you won't look at it, fine! Don't! But you've got to understand that it will always be there!"

"I'm not ready to love someone! I want to be my own person, without any ties to people. I don't want to have to worry constantly about things like that, to have that emotional pull for the rest of my life." Marian started walking again, tired of arguing and trying to make sense of her feelings.

"Marian, you don't want that. A life without love is like being in a pitch-black room without even a speck of light. Soon enough you don't want to live anymore. Believe me, I know how that is." It wasn't until they were a few minutes away from he camp that Robin said, "You know, I'd give my life up for yours any day." His tone was completely serious, with no hint of indecision.

Marian looked at him, her face full of shock and astonishment. "Don't say things like that, Robin. Please. I don't want to hear them."

"I knew it!" she heard Much suddenly announce. Marian looked up at the sky hoping a lightning bolt would come down and strike Much right then. Or maybe her. Robin whirled around at the unfamiliar voice. There was Much marching triumphantly toward them from the way they had just come. He had followed her, and now knew everything. "You two are lovers."

"Who is that? And what is he doing here?"

"Robin, he's going to be staying with us. His name is Much, and he punched a Norman earlier today. I brought him. Although I wish I hadn't now."

"He's just a kid!" Robin protested.

"I'm seventeen actually," Much said.

Marian glared at Much. "Act it," she snapped. "And don't follow me around! When I told you to stay, there was a good reason, wasn't there?" She sincerely wished that she hadn't brought Much back with her. He was just making her life more complicated and difficult than it already was.

Much started to grin insanely. "You remind me too much of my nephew," Robin commented, and walked away. This left Marian scowling at Much with bloody murder in her eyes.

"Don't you ever do that again! There are some lines you don't cross over, privacy being one of them." She didn't say anything past that, she was too angry for words.

Leaving Much standing there, she did something that she'd wanted to do for years; climb her tree. She needed to feel the wind on her face, have the feeling that she was going somewhere. It came back to her almost naturally. She knew where to reach, what branches weren't strong enough by instinct. She didn't know where Robin had gone and didn't bother looking, she wouldn't blame him if he had left and refused to come back. By this time she was two-thirds of the way up. Far enough. She didn't move until the sun began to set, which meant she'd been there for about two hours. She would have been there longer if she hadn't been interrupted.

"I'm hungry," had been Much's announcement.

"What am I supposed to do about it?" Marian snapped, still angry.

"I don't know, I just thought I should throw that out there. It doesn't seem as if you ever intend to eat yourself, or let me know where the food is." His grumbling wasn't going to get him anywhere if that what he was thinking. A few moments passed. "I'm bored. What am I supposed to do? Maybe I should—"

"Shut up, be quiet and stop complaining," she finished for him.

"What if I don't feel like it?" he muttered, not really meaning for her to hear.

"Then I'll turn you in. I wouldn't hesitate, not after all the trouble you've caused me."

"I don't believe you. You wouldn't be able to." Much was right of course; to turn him in she'd have to go to the sheriff. Geoffrey knew her too well not to recognize her face, and she was an outlaw too. It wouldn't be a good situation.

"If it helps any, I don't believe her either." Robin was back. "Oh, and just a forewarning; don't get on Marian's nerves too much. She's quite skilled at getting revenge."

Marian smiled to herself, although she knew that she wasn't near as professional as she was before.

"You mean like depriving me of food?"

Marian didn't look down; she had no intentions of being pulled into another conversation. She was pretending that she couldn't hear them.

"There's food inside the tree," Robin told him

"Inside?"

"Yes, have you been so unobservant that you didn't notice that the tree is hollow at the base? You'll never survive as an outlaw like that." Such easy conversation. She hadn't had one like that in five years. Now, every conversation ended with someone getting upset and angry. There were no conversations, only arguments. What had happened to that simple friendship? Everything had been so easy then. When would that return?

"If you try to hide again, don't do it where everyone is going to look first." Robin had joined her. It was the last and, at the same time, foremost thing she'd wanted.

She sighed. "I'm sorry that I yelled at you earlier. And you're right that I should have told you that I was leaving."

"I'm sorry as well. It's not your fault that you feel that way."

"And it's not your fault either." She glanced at him for a moment. "Let's leave it at that."

**Ohh... LOVER' SPAT!!! That was fun to write. Sad too, though.... :( It's all resolved now, tankfully. maybe things won't be so awkward now. Was Robin too poetic, you think? I'm actually not sure. Let me know, my lovely reviewers!!! ROBIN AND MARIAN FOREVER!!!**


	22. Nightmare

**I'm an awful awful person for not posting in a while, aren't I? I was out of inspiration for quite some time (obviously) but I found it a few days ago and here it is!!! I'm so happy to have it posted... I feel absolutely wonderful. But you know what would make it even better??? Come on, you know you want to know.... Okay, it would be even better if you'd read, review and enjoy!!**

"Robin it's been two weeks," Marian said bluntly. "I will not sleep without a roof over my head for one more night!"

It was early in the morning, nobody was quite awake yet. "Sleep in the Oak," Robin told her.

"And when it rains? I'll be inside a tree, but where will you two be?"

Much glanced up, for the first time, realizing that the argument had something to do with him. "In the tree?"

"No, _I'll _be in the tree. You two will be fending for yourselves _outside._" Marian crossed her arms and glared at the two of them. "Build something. This is England; it _will _rain sooner or later, and when that happens will you be stuck in it? Yes. You could use the cave, but tell me, will you really be comfortable? Are you willing to spend every rainy night for the rest of your lives on a stone floor?"

Robin didn't immediately disagree with her, but rather remained silent. Much spoke up. "Yep, that's fine with me."

Marian glared at him. "Say so again after a month or two."

Much shot back, "I will." He grinned manically.

"Men!" She looked to the sky, or what little she could see of it through the leaves. "When you rain again, show these idiots that a decent establishment is more than a cave!"

"Outlaws don't have decent establishments, Marian," Robin said.

"Outlaws usually aren't women either. Yet here I am." Her voice was tinged with mockery. "And how happy do you think my horses are going to be, standing in the rain?"

Neither offered to argue with her point or remedy the problem.

"One week," she said. "One week to build something for the animals, _at least_."

A week later the three of them had built a shelter for the two mares in one corner of the camp. Marian carried a smug look on her face.

"My turn to make a request," Robin said. "Archery practice every day for as long as I deem necessary."

The three of them had mimicked Marian's raid of her own home and raided Robin's earlier that week. They had snuck into the armory and stolen longbows and arrows. It was a worthwhile venture, Marian thought. They needed weapons, that wasn't questioned.

"Marian," Robin said. "When was the last time you shot a bow?"

"Five years, obviously." She grinned at the memory. "It didn't last long, seeing as I was almost arrested for it. Why'd you even ask? You knew the answer."

Paying no attention to her accusation, Robin turned to the miller's boy. "Much?"

Much shifted, thinking. "Maybe a month."

Robin sighed. "The first to strike that knoll…" he pointed to a rather familiar birch a ways out of the glade. "Doesn't die while the other two will. Theoretically speaking."

Marian felt a day's worth memories flow over her. "Robin, is that the same target I used before?"

"Maybe," Robin said. "Does it matter? You should still watch your follow-through."

She scowled. "We already fixed that."

"In five years you could've ruined all the time we spent working on it." Robin shrugged indifferently.

Marian drew out an arrow and set it to her string. She aimed from where she stood and released, and executed a perfect follow-through. Her arrow struck just an inch away from the knoll. "Say so again," she told Robin who was nocking an arrow of his own. He aimed and released, the arrow hitting the center of the knoll.

"Well," Much said dejectedly, "I guess Marian and I are dead then." He playacted falling dead on the forest floor and then jumped back up again. Then He grabbed his own bow and his arrow struck an inch away from Marian's.

Marian, feeling miffed that she was now theoretically dead, tried again. This time she hit the outside edge of the knoll. "I'm not dead yet, then, am I?"

--*--

Robin decided not to threaten them with 'death' again during archery practices because Marian and Much were arguing with such ferocity that it made his ears hurt. How they managed to keep up this arguing when they'd stopped shooting for over an hour and were trying to eat a meal, he really didn't know.

"You died before I did and you know it," Much accused.

"But I also shot more accurately than all of your shots put together," Marian said with a sniff of petulance.

"Oh, really? At least I haven't abandoned archery for over _five years _until this day unlike _some _people I could mention!" Much bit into his venison pointedly.

Robin listened to them and tried to keep from laughing. If they could only hear themselves…

--*--

Marian was awake before anyone else that morning, which was unusual since Robin was more of an early riser than she was. She ran her hands over one of her mare's faces. "You know," she said. "You're going to have an interesting life." She smiled ironically at it. "And so am I, if I have anything to say about it."

Marian grabbed her bow and a dozen arrows and half skipped over to the mark they'd set yesterday for themselves. "We'll see who dies this time, Much."

For an hour she practiced, until her arrows were in clusters on the knoll. She grinned at her work, overly proud of herself. "See," she said to air, reminding her of how she used to speak to Robin like this while he was away. "I'm not dying, Robin. Not yet."

"Congratulations."

Marian jumped when Robin answered her. She hadn't expected him to be there. "Sorry, you caught me by surprise." She realized how stupid that sounded as soon as she said it; she'd been talking to him, so she had to have known he was there. Or at least, that was how he would see it.

Robin didn't say anything in response to her blunder of words, instead he said, "You're not usually the one to wake up this early."

"No, I guess not." This was awkward, and for the first time Marian wished Much were around. "I just wanted to practice without Much making a racket." She offered him the bow and her last arrow which he accepted.

Marian watched closely as he drew it back and noticed that he wasn't aiming for the knoll but something else, farther off. With a smirk, one that she was glad to see, he let the arrow fly. Marian followed straight into a rabbit fifty feet beyond what she'd been aiming for.

"Breakfast," Robin explained, looking pleased with himself.

"Show-off," she said, peeved, but she said it with a smile. He returned her bow to her and as she took it from him their fingertips brushed together. The touch sent a jolt through her arm and straight to her heart. "I leave the skinning of breakfast to you," she said quickly, eager to cover up the momentary stutter of her heart. Marian set off to collect her arrows, her recently acquired instinct to run away from her emotions kicking in.

"If I skin it, will you prepare it?" Robin asked as he took out a knife.

Marian pulled an arrow from the tree. "I suppose. Being the lone female of this group, I suspected I'd get the brunt of kitchen responsibilities."

"How do the rest of the outlaws do it?" Robin mused aloud, just to get on her nerves. "Without women to prepare the food?"

He was trying to annoy her and she liked it because it meant that maybe their familiar friendship would come back—soon. She smiled.

--*--

Robin slept fitfully that night as he was prone to on occasion since the war. And he was also prone to do, h had nightmares…

_They were at Acre, which was the worst of the Crusades for him, and they were actually in the city. Robin saw an old man and his wife cowering in an alley, the man holding onto her frail shoulders. "Kill them all," they'd been told. "Every last one of them." _

_Robin swore in Arabic. The women and children? The old men whom couldn't even dream of defending themselves against the young Christian crusaders? All of them, their captains had said. Robin had to obey. _

_He tried to avoid any people other then the men, but it was inescapable. Robin was forced to cut down the women and the children who ran across his path. The streets of Acre were coated in blood, along with anyone there. It was slaughter, and Robin knew it._

_An Arabic man charged toward him bearing a scimitar and a fiery look of hatred in his eye. "You devil!" he screamed in is native tongue, blood spilling from his lip, pointing his blade at Robin._

_Robin let the man back him against the wall of a nearby home. He heard the truth of the man's words. "I'm sorry," Robin said, barely taking a defensive stance. "I'm only following—"_

_"I do not care! You killed my wife and young son as I defended my aging mother! They are all dead thanks to you and your orders!"_

_Robin remembered the woman and her son. She had brandished a long knife, probably from her kitchen, as her only defense. That was why blood was running down his forehead and over his face. She had not lasted long against him, a trained soldier, but she had tried with every breath she had to protect her son. _

_Robin felt sick. The man swung his blade with force meant to kill. Only on instinct did Robin's blade flash forward to block the blow and hold the two blades locked together. This man had a right to kill him._

_Behind the Saracen man there suddenly was a woman dressed in white, with not a drop of blood on her. The man's voice faded along with the screams of pain and anguish from the rest of streets._

_Robin could hardly look at her; he felt insignificant and ashamed. But he had to, and when he did he recognized her at once._

_Marian. What was she _doing_ here? This was the last place she belonged. He couldn't look away from her face, which was filled with concern and sorrow. "Robin," she said. "Please, don't do this to yourself."_

_The war and Acre were fading, but somehow she still there. "Marian," Robin said, not sure why, but needing to say her name out loud._

_"I'm right here," Marian said. Suddenly she was right in front of him one hand on one side of his face. Everything was gone, the Saracen man, Acre, the Holy Land itself was gone. It was white and then, sadly he found himself in the King Richard's tent. Marian was still there and he wanted to tell her to go away, that she shouldn't be here. She belonged far away from the death and blood of this place. _

_Robin found that he couldn't though, because the king was discussing the execution of hundreds of Saracen prisoners, the few survivors of Acre. "Richard, no!" Robin protested. "They… they have lost enough! Can't they keep their lives?"_

_"Shh…" Marian put her other hand on his chest. "Come back, Robin. Come back to England, to Sherwood, and… to me." _

_Robin looked past her pleading face to the king. Some of the other men in the tent were giving him disapproving glares for speaking so his sovereign. Richard however was unperturbed. "Robin, you know I enjoy hearing your opinions, but this cannot be argued further." _

_"Your Majesty, don't—"_

_"Robin!" Marian said loudly. "Stop. Please! You have to come back to Sherword this instant, or… or…or I'll pour cold water on your face!"_

_This didn't seem like a threat that he would mind too much in the heat of this desert. Robin kept arguing with the king, and the other men, ignoring her warning. She started shaking him after a few minutes, trying to demand the attention he wouldn't give. _

_"Get out, Locksley!" one of the king's guards ordered, grabbing him by the shoulder and dragging him to the entrance of the tent. Robin swore quite loudly as he realized that he wouldn't be able to do anything for the Saracen prisoners. _

_Marian slapped him. He wasn't sure whether it was for defying King Richard or the profanity. Did it really matter? "Robin, just—Come out of this! You're going to send me into a panic!"_

_Robin wanted to charge back into the king's tent and demand to be allowed to speak, and he said so to the guard who'd dragged him out. The man didn't care, he did, in fact, completely ignore what Robin had said._

_"Robin," Marian sounded like she was crying, and Robin had to look at her for that reason alone. She _was_ crying. "What's happened to you?"_

_He almost said something, when, with indecision in her eyes, she leaned in and kissed him. Robin was taken aback although he was quite happy with this turn of events. Marian pulled away with a smile, left a peck on his forehead, and was gone. She left him in Sherwood, with sunlight that wasn't burning hot streaming through the trees._

--*--

Something woke Marian up that night and she wasn't sure what. She listened and then heard Robin speaking a foreign language. She sat up and looked over at him from her side of a dying fire. Much was up already since he was keeping watch for the first half of the night. "Much," she whispered. "How long has he been doing that?"

Much shrugged. "A while. I was thinking of waking him up, but it made things interesting."

Robin started thrashing all of a sudden and Marian had a feeling that the foreign language was Arabic and this was a nightmare brought on by that wretched crusade. She had to wake him up.

She went over and knelt by his side not sue what to do. "Robin. Don't do this to yourself."

He calmed but not by much. "Marian." It was the first word she understood from him.

Marian put a hand on one side of his face, not entirely sure it was the smartest thing to do, thinking of their recent few days and her vow that she shouldn't love him the way she did. "I'm right here," Marian said.

Much spoke, "Do you think he's coming out of it?"

His question was answered with a decisive 'no' when Robin started shouting again, but in English, at…the king? That's what it sounded like, anyway.

She tried to shush him and put a hand on his chest to hold him down. "Come back, Robin," Marian pleaded. "Come back to England, to Sherwood, and… to me." Her mind protested the last part, while heart was exuberant.

Robin burst out, "Your Majesty, don't—"

"Robin!" Marian raised her voice; he was scaring her. Why wouldn't he wake up. "Stop. Please! You come back to Sherwood this instant or… or…. or I'll pour cold water on your face!"

It had no effect. Robin continued to yell things at who she was sure was the king. She shook him and he still would wake up. Why wouldn't he open his eyes and leave the nightmare he was in? Or was it that he _couldn't_ leave it? That terrified her even more and it was a rare thing that could have her feeling this way.

Robin said something in Arabic again and Marian had feeling it wasn't pretty.

"You have to do something," a wide-eyed Much proclaimed.

Marian didn't know what to do, so she slapped him. She felt horrible for it, but she didn't know what else to do. "Robin, just—Come out of this! You're going to send me into a panic!"

Robin started talking in Arabic again, and wasn't sounding very friendly, either. What had happened in the Holy Land that wouldn't go of him like this? She could feel uncalled tears pricking in her eyes and she found herself on the verge of crying for him. All she wanted was to help, but she couldn't.

"Robin, what happened to you?"

"Kiss him," Much said. "It'll bring him out of it for sure."

She took a shaky breath and gave it some consideration, taking into account the fact that he could wake up to it, and it would ruin the wall she'd been building around her heart so carefully. Looking down at Robin, though, she knew she couldn't say no.

She did as Much had said, her tears mixing with the kiss. This was wrong. What if he woke up to this? Even if it was wrong, she didn't care, because Robin went still and his breathing went back to normal. She sat back up after kissing his forehead quickly.

"It worked," she stated. Marian stood up and looked at Much, who was staring incredulously at her. "Don't you dare tell him anything, Much. Nothing about the nightmare at all. He doesn't need to know that I…"

Much nodded. "Do you think you'd do it again? If he does this on some other night?"

"As a last resort."

Later that night she resolved that she would get rid of whatever was holding onto Robin from that war, if she had to beat it off herself.

She touched her lips, and could've sworn that he'd been kissing her back.

The following morning, however, he showed no memory of anything, at last not that he said. Robin acted so completely normal that Marian had to believe that he didn't remember.

--*--

Robin did remember, though. He'd been having such dreams ever since he came back from the war and while he was there too. Never, not once, had Marian been involved. It was strange. Too strange for any real explanation. He had to wonder why… Last night's nightmare had ended so soon, though. Last night's nightmare hadn't taken hardly any time at all compared to the others. Why?

It was a question that he never answered until almost a year later.

**Wanna guess how he answers the question?? I might give you a yes or no answer. You'd have to tell me in a review which requires you to hit the reveiw button just below this. Please???**


	23. His Haunting Eyes

**I have worked this out very carefully. I usually think and work out chapters like this and that's why it takes so long sometimes. Sorry about that :) Many thanks, heaps of thanks, going to the following: johsjack, threeoffeather, idkwhatmynameis, Jessie D, Rawr I'm a Toaster, and lana-bear! My lovely reviewers are always always appreciated! johsjack, this one is for you since you read the whole thing in one day! I know how that is; I've done it. Rather nerve wracking on my part since I catch all the mistakes I missed and worry what every one of you thought and if you lost all, if any, good opinion of my work! AHH! I have very low confidence in my work. This is something I need to improve on. *Don't own the legend of Robin Hood, by the way***

**Read, review, and enjoy.**

Three months later-July

They were thriving. Robin, Marian, and Much had built a fairly sturdy lean-to against the Great Oak that could be taken down and hidden in less than five minutes in case they had to run on short notice. Marian was usually in a good mood these days and on that particular day was no exception. "Robin?" Marian was happy despite the fact that it was a swelteringly hot day. "I'm going to go swimming so if you and Much would stay away from the pond…"

Much tried not to blush but he still had some color to his cheeks. Marian, in turn, kept back the laughter at his discomfort. Robin as the most composed of the three, which was an encouraging thought to Marian.

Marian set off with a mind full of thoughts. She was still trying to understand the nightmares that Robin seemed to have and why it was only her that could bring him out of them. Sometimes it was only her voice, but at other times she'd have to kiss him like the first time. It took an immense amount of will-power not to look forward to these kisses. And it took even more not to enjoy them; it was a battle that she'd lost every time.

As close as she could tell Robin had these nightmares maybe once a month, although last month there had been two.

Marian bit her lip, as she started to take down her hair, carefully unbraiding it. The task was never finished. Something slammed into her, knocking her breath away. An unfamiliar hand was clamped over her mouth preventing the scream that she had prepared in her lungs.

Robin and Much occupied themselves easily that day, but as the night descended Robin started to get paranoid. Marian shouldn't have been gone so long. Either something had happened to her, or she was just taking her time getting back and enjoying the day alone.

There were two clear options. He could respect her wishes and not go near the pond, risking her safety or go anyway just to make sure everything was fine.

It didn't take that long to decide. "Much, I need you to stay here. Marian should have been back by now so I'm going to make sure that she's safe."

"Why do I always have to stay behind? If there was trouble wouldn't it be better if there were two of us?" Much was put off; he would argue until something came of it.

Robin didn't want to delay any longer than he had to. "Fine." Much grinned, and it annoyed Robin that he was finding pleasure in what was, for him, a stressful situation.

Much followed Robin down the deer track that led to the pond, an arrow nocked and ready at both of their strings. The track itself was nearly invisible in daylight, and with the dark it was worse. Even so, Robin had no trouble with it. Much had the good sense to stay quiet so that both could listen for anything irregular. Nothing was heard beyond the croaking and cries of forest nightlife.

At first. Halfway down the track Robin heard the heartbreaking sobs of a woman. Marian. Much saw the look that passed over Robin's face when these sounds first reached their ears and he couldn't describe it. It was different from simple love, Much decided. Her pain… it was his pain. Much felt like an intruder all of a sudden.

Robin started to follow the sobbing, going at a speed that Much found hard to keep up with. Soon they saw her in the near distance. She was curled into a tight ball with her arms wrapped securely around her knees, like a small child. She was alone and safe.

Much felt even more so like an intruder. "I'll head back," he said. "I'm not very good with crying women." Much turned and left, knowing that Robin would bring her back and that he'd have an easier time of it by himself.

Robin approached her almost cautiously. Her position made him think that she was trying to hold herself together or make herself very small. "Marian," he said softly, kneeling beside her and setting his bow aside. She didn't notice him, but kept sobbing. Robin put a hand on her shoulder and said her name again.

Marian shook him off. "Just go away," she said quietly through her tears. "Please."

"I can't do that, Marian." Robin couldn't have left if he'd wanted to. He needed to stay with her and somehow didn't think she wanted him to leave. He sat beside her, hoping that she wouldn't be angry with him for doing so.

Marian's pain hurt Robin more than anything he'd experienced in the Holy Land. It wasn't physical but such a deep emotional pain that he was sure it would leave a scar. It was a bit too similar to what he'd felt after Marian had run out on him at Huntington Hall. Marian always seemed to induce this sort of pain. That, however, was irrelevant.

What had happened that she was reduced to such a shadow of herself? He couldn't stand doing nothing while she was bearing so much suffering alone. Carefully, ready to pull back the moment she resisted, Robin wrapped his arms around her. To his surprise, she responded by curling into him, holding onto him as if he was the only the thing left to her.

She blubbered words in-between tears, half of which, Robin couldn't hear. "I didn't… my fault… dead…"

Robin shushed her, saying whatever came to mind and hoping it was what she needed to hear, all the while realizing two things and putting them together. One was that Marian's hair had the all too familiar smell of blood. It was soaked with it. Her blood or another's? The second was the last word she'd said: 'dead'. Who was dead?

Had Marian killed somebody? Was that the reason for all this? Too many questions and too few answers.

Robin didn't ask any questions or try to find answers on his own. One answer that was made clear simply by the fact of Marian in his arms was that she _did_ need him, if not in the way he needed her. It was a comfort and it was a curse. A comfort to be this close and a curse to be that far away.

Marian found solace there in Robin's arms. This made it all fade enough to concentrate. Even so, the images were still there in her mind. The look of horror and pleading on that man's face, the moan that had escaped when she'd plunged his own knife into him, the blood…

She only cried harder, keeping her face in Robin's chest, unable, too ashamed, to look at him. His steady heartbeat kept her grounded and present.

Slowly, she ran out of tears. Marian refused to leave the safe haven that was Robin's arms. But she told him what had happened. "I never made it to the pond. I was captured by a man… I don't know who he was, not a bounty hunter, but he was going to collect the reward for turning me in. I killed him before he could. I've never killed anyone before and it felt so… wrong. He probably had a wife and children. I know he did, because he wouldn't stop jabbering about them while he dragged me to Nottingham. And I stabbed him." She didn't say how she got the knife, or how. It didn't matter anyway.

"Marian," she heard him say, "People die every day. It's part of what happens to everyone. We live and die. It's all right."

It made Marian angry the moment she heard it. "No! It's not all right! I had no right to kill him. I had no right to take the husband and father away from a family. He was a person who deserved my respect!"

Robin was silent. He didn't say anything. Did he agree with her? Or…

"Please," she said, "Don't say things just to make me feel better." Her hands, once clutching at his shoulders for her own sanity, fell away. She moved away from him and leaned against the nearby elm. She looked into the sky. "It's late. We should be getting back. Much will worry."

Marian looked back at Robin. His eyes were fastened on her with such intensity, that she wanted to back away, but she noticed that he wasn't looking at her. He was looking at something beyond her. A deep battle went on within his eyes and she found herself, against her will, watching it. She knew that it had to do somehow with the Holy Land. It had to, that was, as far as she knew, the darkest time of his life. Was it the lives he'd taken, the people he'd slain? The death—

The thought of that word flung her back to the sickening sound of the knife embedding into her captors ribs; his scream of agony. He didn't let go of her hair and had dragged her down with him as he fell. He had been resilient, holding onto her as he gasped out that he'd only wanted his child to have food in his stomach. His breathing had become ragged and the blood had spilled around him coating Marian with the work of her hands. Only when his heart had ceased beating had she freed herself from his grasp. He had died with his eyes open, blank and staring. His eyes held her fast for minutes, accusing her of her crime. She had stumbled backward and started running; faster than she ever had or would.

His open eyes haunted her. "You were the wolfs-head," they screamed. "Anyone could kill you. It was _my_ right. You have no rights, outlaw. You had no right to take me from my family or my life from me."

When Robin had been near, the vision of her victim's eyes was blurred. Faded. She had been safe from his stony condemning gaze.

Marian wanted to have that safety to fall back on. But she knew that she couldn't have it. Not then and not ever; not without the sacrifice of the simple friendship that she had with Robin. That would always be more important to her, there was no question.

"We had better head back," she said quickly.

"A good idea." Robin's voice was barely audible.

"Hey, come on," Marian said with more cheer than she really had at the moment. In fact, she felt almost worse. Those haunting eyes flashed in front of her eyes unrelentingly. "I'm fine. Really," she lied.

Robin managed a small smile, although it was assuredly not heartfelt. "Much is waiting."

"He's probably fallen asleep waiting for us. And he has first watch, too."

Robin was bothered by something, Marian knew. But she couldn't place her finger on it. She shrugged it off on the walk back to camp.

_"You were the wolfs-head. Anyone could kill you. It was _my_ right. You have no rights, outlaw. You had no right to take me from my family or my life from me." _ The imagined words gripped her with cold hands, wrapping themselves around her soul.

**Like it? It was rather short, I know. I like my chapters to be over 2,000 words (not counting the ANs), but this had a nice ending here and the plot of the chapter finished nicely right there. Or did it? What did you think? Did the space aliens like it? *looks up into far off UFO* Did anyone? *Let me know, please? The review button loves you! Reminder: I will thank you in the next AN and in a Private Message. So please? Review?**


	24. Accuracy of the Arrow's Answer

**Hey there! Happy to have you reading this! I'm happy with how quickly I managed to write this one. Content's fun too. Rather depressing, but a bit of humor (as always) and some nostalgia too. I hope you enjoy it! Thanks going to last chapter's reviewers: Outlaw's Daughter, Marjatta, idkwhatmynameis, penspot, and Rawr I'm Toaster. Read, review, and enjoy.**

The following day Robin watched Marian as she went about the business of the day. During the archery that morning, she didn't celebrate her improving accuracy, but instead winced as each arrow struck. She didn't eat, but stared into the fire, and not once did she smile. Not even a small smile, or an obviously fake smile.

It was unnerving for her to so unhappy when only yesterday morning she'd been almost bouncing in happiness. Her eyes didn't sparkle like they usually did; they were dull and lifeless.

"So what happened?" Much had asked when they had returned and Marian had collapsed into sleep.

"She was captured and on the way to Nottingham she killed the man so that she could escape."

"Oh. Well, why was she so upset? It's not anything so out of the ordinary."

Now, though, Robin saw that for Marian, it was. She saw that man's life as sacred and important. He had realized that last night and with that the barbarism of the Holy Land only seemed that much worse. The faces of so many Saracens and their dying screams had filled his ears, eyes, and mind and reminded him of everything he tried to forget on a daily basis.

In Marian's blank eyes, he recognized the pain that he had originally felt in the Holy Land. He had pushed it away, attempted to brush it off as an unavoidable part of life. Attempted. In the end, what he'd really wanted was to atone for it. Was that what Marian wanted to do now?

Atonement… There wasn't a way to take back what she'd – they'd done, but surely there was some way to take away the feeling of uncanny guilt that never seemed to leave.

Four days later and Marian was beginning to force Robin to insanity with her new habits. She said and ate hardly anything and then only at the bare minimum. Not a shadow of a smile crossed her face and the eyes that captivated him so easily were now dim and glazed.

Much cracked jokes more than usual in an attempt to bring her back but to no avail. It was like… like she'd vanished. If she didn't reappear and improve in two days he'd have to do something about that. This couldn't go on.

Archery the following morning took Robin by surprise. Marian missed. Completely and repeatedly. Not once did she even hit the tree much less the small target. She didn't say anything about it; didn't even act surprised. However, she did know exactly where to find each arrow after her round. The same with the following morning.

Robin made a decision to go back on his silent word after this archery session finished. She didn't have the rest of the day to 'reappear'.

"Much," he said. "I need you to go check the snares we set out."

Much's eyes flicked from him to Marian and back. One nod and he was gone.

Marian was calmly collecting all the arrows that had missed the tree, seemingly oblivious to everything but the simple task at hand.

He went to the opposite side and picked up the shafts there. He held them out to her. She didn't notice. "Marian? Arrows?"

She shrugged as if in apology and took them. Silently, she counted what she had and started to head back. Robin followed as she stored them with the rest, but put half in the quiver on her back. Abruptly, Marian spun to face him, anger sketching her posture and face. "Get it over with," she ordered. "Tell me off! Go on!"

"You aren't mute, after all." Although his voice exuded utter flatness, he was quite happy with the progress so far. She was displeased with him and showing it.

"No," she responded. As quickly as the anger had been there it was gone, replaced by the withdrawn and solemn Marian.

"Don't do that again!" His turn to be angry now. "This isn't you. And it's not doing you any favors."

She didn't say anything.

Robin raised his voice, not caring if anyone heard. "Marian! Look at me!" Marian did so and took an involuntary step back at the rage she saw. Her back was up against an elm, and she was not, in any way comfortable there, looking into Robin's eyes.

"What?" she asked quietly.

"I understand," he said, his tone more gentle than before. "I tried the same thing you're trying to do and it's not going to work. Reality is going to smack you in the face and you'll wish you hadn't."

She raised her eyebrows in question. "Hadn't what?"

"Gone into a shell. It won't work."

Her initial fury had returned. "What am I suppose to do, then? I feel _filthy_, Robin! All I ever see or hear is that man or what he said to me! I can't take it! Let me work this out, please."

Robin pounded his fist on the tree. "You can't live like this, anymore. It's been almost a week!" He leaned heavily on the hand above her head.

"Well, do you have any other ideas?" Robin could hear the desperateness in her voice beneath the angrily spat words.

"No, I don't. But we can think on that, can't we? That would be more productive than doing nothing at all, don't you think?"

Marian looked at the ground and back up. "I suppose."

"Good." Robin straightened, his arms falling back to side. "Now smile."

"Pardon?" Marian didn't get it.

"Smile. Grin. Laugh. Something to get you started on this new direction."

"I'm not your patient," she snapped. Nevertheless, Marian looked over at the Great Oak and back at Robin. "Race to the top?"

They exchanged a significant look that clearly said, "However childish, it's for nostalgia and old times." Robin took off running and leaped into the tree with Marian not a second behind him.

Much returned to have Marian drop down expertly from the Oak and admonish him for being late with supper, taking the rabbit and squirrel from him with a scowl. Apparently whatever Robin had done worked.

Marian didn't quite know what had triggered her sudden change. Or rather what about Robin's little speech had triggered her sudden change. Was it that he'd been so angry and furious? Or that he'd put all his thoughts of love and marriage aside? No. No, that wasn't it. It was the 'we'. He had been through the same thing, even if it had been handled differently, and was looking for the answer as well. If they were in this pit together, she knew that they'd make it out. Scratching their way to the top didn't seem near as hard. In fact she felt ready for the challenge.

**? Was that annoying just now? I apologize; couldn't resist. Did you like it? Or maybe not? Either way, please please review! **


	25. A Visit to Locksley

**I sincerely apologize for the wait on this. I wanted to make this chapter NON-CHEESY which proved to be difficult. It took me a while and I hope you enjoy it! I took things for a spin by going somewhere we haven't been yet. (Hint-Will's there too!) I have to admit that I wrote it in this setting half just to have Will around. I know some of you really enjoy his character and I'm no better. Thank my brother for inspiration when I created his attitudes. Hehe. Disclaimer: Once again, I do NOT own this legend. But then, who does? Except maybe the spirit of England. Please read, review, and enjoy!**

Marian had been quite sure that she'd misheard Robin when he'd declared that he was going to Locksley that morning.

"You can't be serious." Marian had looked at him as if he'd caught the plague.

For moment he'd looked hurt. "Actually, I am."

Much looked from one to the other, not quite understanding.

Robin had stood up and promptly put on his cloak, taken up his bow, quiver, and sword. "I want to see it. I never have."

Marian had protested, of course. "Why would you want to see something that you can never have?"

Robin answered her question with a question. "Does it matter?"

This argument now had the three of them setting off for Locksley each on their own horse. (In addition to the two mares from Marian's manor they had found another wandering the forest. Someone was missing the horse by now, for sure.) Much had refused to be left behind, as he usually did and Marian perhaps as curious as Robin to see where she might have lived.

Upon arriving on Robin's lands they dismounted and walked the horses beside them; there was no reason to frighten the villagers with unsavory looking characters charging into their village on horseback. After a short walk they entered the village. Locksley really was nothing more than a scattering of huts for the peasants and fields for the lord of the manor who was most likely Robin's brother, Charles, or Will. Robin couldn't have said who would have taken over Locksley after his outlawry.

The three of them stayed in the shadows as much as possible, with hoods low over their faces. "Small, but comfortable," Marian commented absently.

The peasants' homes were well kept. One had a nanny goat tugging on its rope outside as a child milked her. The boy's face seemed gaunt and stretched. The child was proof that all was not as it looked on the outside.

The manor itself looked lived-in. Clothes hung out to the yard behind. A female servant was beating dust out of linen sheets off to the side. Robin pointed to a scarlet doublet hanging out to dey. "Will's here. Whether or not my brother is, I can't tell."

Robin went closer with Marian and Much following. Marian could tell that Robin was feeling… lost? Erased or forgotten? It was hard to know for sure. This had been his home, although he'd never once lived here. Now that he was gone and outlawed things continued as if he'd never touched the place.

A middle-aged woman with golden hair carefully braided into the French fashion exited the house wearing a light blue gown. Robin flattened himself against the nearest empty-looking hut available.

"Who is it?" Marian hissed. She could swear she recognized the noblewoman.

"My mother," Robin answered flatly.

Marian had never met Robin's mother. She had sent a message once while Robin was on crusade saying that she'd like to visit, but nothing had come of it. Marian looked at her more carefully now. Her face had wrinkles that faded into soft lines. Her eyes seemed dulled where they used to sparkle. Marian couldn't say how she decided that they used to sparkle, but it seemed to be a good guess.

"Go talk to her," Marian suggested.

Robin's head snapped around to glare at her. "She wouldn't want to speak to me. I've disappointed the whole family."

Marian had never once thought that he might feel that way. Marian had no family to disappoint. She nudged him with her elbow. "If I were a mother and my son had been outlawed I wouldn't turn him away."

Robin just shook his head.

Marian made a snap decision just then and strode out of the shadows with confidence. Elaine. That was her name. It was a good thing that she'd remembered. "Lady Elaine, it's so good to see you."

The woman looked at her with surprise. Most likely because of her choice of clothing. "I'm sorry, I don't think I know you." She made to walk back into the manor.

Marian smiled warmly. It was almost fake, since she wasn't accustomed to warm smiles. "I'm Marian Fitzwater, milady. I believe that your son and I were once engaged."

The woman's eyes lit up. "Oh yes. But, excuse me… Lady Marian." The title came hesitantly as it left her lips. "Rumor has it that you were outlawed."

"I was," Marian answered. "I joined Robin in Sherwood Forest. He's here as well today."

So far, Elaine had taken everything surprisingly well. Courtly manners had never slipped. However, at the mention of the presence of her son her head whipped around in search of him. "Where? I wish to speak with him." Her voice had an edge of impatience to it.

"He doesn't believe that you wish to see him."

Elaine got snippy. "Who does he think he is? I am his mother and I _will_ speak with him. He'll not deny his own mother when she's been sick with worry."

Marian thought she might point out that Robin was a grown man and could care for himself but at that moment a very familiar young man came towards them from the hall. "Grandmother, I thought you were—"

Will stopped suddenly upon seeing Marian. He raised his eyebrows. "Well. This is… unexpected."

"Isn't it though?" Marian responded. "You've grown a mustache since I last saw you."

Will stroked his mustache mischievously, attempting to look mysterious. "I think it makes me more dashing. Which seems to help with ladies and such."

Marian opened her mouth to say something about men and how proud they seemed to be of the ability to grow hair on their faces, and really, how it wasn't all that important.

Elaine interrupted, though. "You said that my son is here." Her tone was remindful.

Marian looked to the concealing shadows. "Robin, your mother wants to speak with you! What did I say about this? And I was right, too."

Will muttered, "You sound like a mother yourself, you know."

"Oh, yes, thank you Will. That's exactly what I want to be told." Her sarcasm was very evident.

"I didn't say a thing, if anyone asks…" Will glanced around in a suspicious way whilst stroking his precious mustache.

Marian attempted to ignore his shenanigans. "At least come tell your nephew that facial hair does _not_ make him 'dashing' or earn him the lust of women everywhere!"

Will chuckled.

Robin sulked out of the shadows after sending furtive looks around the village. Elaine's face fairly lit up before running up to her son and shaking him by the shoulders. "What were you thinking, Robert? You killed the Sheriff of Nottingham's cousin! And making me sick with worry all this time without once showing your face!"

Will and Marian stood and watched the spectacle with humorous looks on their faces.

"I'm fine, Mother," Robin told her. "We have all the food we could need and shelter from foul weather."

Elaine's disdainful look quickly softened. "If you ever need anything, just go round to the servant's entrance at Huntington. Your father isn't happy with you, you know."

"No, I suppose he wouldn't be," Robin muttered.

Elaine then attempted to smother Robin in a large motherly hug. "I'm so glad you're safe. Come inside for supper?"

To keep up all appearances of a simple visit should anyone happen to stop by Marian was forced to change into more appropriate attire. Elaine had shoved into Marian's hands a pale lavender gown with simple lines but expensive fabric. Aside from the color she rather liked it. She didn't stop to ask why Elaine had a spare at her grandson's. Although it fit her so well she wondered if it was Elaine's at all. Will's mother, perhaps? Who knew.

Despite who's it was when Marian did first sit down she noticed Will's eyes flicking between her and Robin. How awkward. Much was having the worst of it. In truth he looked like he'd rather crawl under the table and eat there. Probably because the poor boy had never eaten with a table full of nobles and ex-nobles.

Robin's mother was demanding on the small details of life in Serwood. Did they have some form of shelter? Had there been any threats made to them? Did they eat nothing but venison? Surely they could have other food as well?

Marian and Much mostly watched as Robin answered these questions in a tone that suggested his mother was often this way. As soon as she took a slight pause from her interrogation for lack of questions, Robin leaped to ask Will if he was lord of Locksley now.

"Unfortunately," he answered. "I was hoping for another year of leisure with absolutely nothing to worry about except how soon the next meal will be served. But now… thanks to you…" Will trailed off with a meaningful look. But he openly smiled. "It's not all bad being—" Will cleared his throat and then intoned, "Lord William of Locksley." Back in a normal voice, "But by all means, please take it off my hands the minute you're pardoned."

"Not happening. I killed the sheriff's cousin, if you remember. He won't forgive that."

Will shrugged. "Offer still stands."

Marian enjoyed watching the family interaction between Robin, his mother, and Will. They had an easy way of talking that Marian had never experienced with her father. She wished it had. Her mother had been a bit like this, but more in loving, adoring way. Robin's family had a teasing quality to their love. Love came in all brands she decided.

Elaine released a long sigh. Her voice took on a seriousness that Marian hadn't heard before. "There is something I'd like you to do, Robert, after you leave here."

"What?" Robin asked.

"What can we possibly do as outlaws?" Marian echoed, taking part in the conversation for the first time in a while.

"You see, Sheriff DeLacey seems to be exerting his power more than needed of late."

Will added, "He hanged one of my villagers without even involving me. I tried to tell him that it was a small crime and one that I had jurisdiction over, but he refused to listen!"

Elaine continued, "He's raised the taxes over the entire county, saying that he's trying to raise money to go to Duke Leopold of Austria for King Richard's ransom, but I don't think that can possibly be his goal." Elaine paused. "I want you to undermine him."

"What!" Much couldn't help his outburst. He clapped a hand over his mouth and seemed to sink lower in his chair, obviously feeling he had overstepped.

"Or," Will said, "Assist the people from his tyranny."

Robin gave Will a disbelieving look. "You're trying to make it sound heroic."

"It is!" Will objected, trying to look hurt, but still smiling.

Marian felt her spirits lift. "Robin, remember what you said to me before. You know… that day." While Elaine and Will looked confused Robin knew that Marian was referring to the end of her withdrawal.

"But the Sheriff of Nottingham," Robin protested. "He's not a man to get on the bad side of."

"You already are," Will pointed out.

Robin had that spark in his eye. He wanted to do it. It was a challenge that he was willing to accept.

Marian and Will exchanged knowing smiles during a short silence while Robin appeared to be thinking about his mother's request.

Robin's thoughts were many and all leading in one direction even if he attempted to reverse them. The sheriff… He wouldn't be an easy one to 'undermine'. In fact it would be downright impossible. Unless… There wasn't only one way to bring the man and his intentions to the ground. He would do as Will suggested, and 'assist the people' rather than direct confrontation the DeLacey. But still…

"I don't know," he amended aloud.

"It's a worthy cause," Elaine said hopefully. "A good portion of the nobles have been waiting or an opening to remove him from his position."

Robin was still willing but unsure.

"The first respectable outlaw doesn't seem so bad, does it? And it does sound amusing, don't you think?" Marian's eager and (as always) angelic voice broke the last of his doubts.

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